Night to Day
by shadowblade-tara
Summary: From orphaned sparklings to bonded officers: a series of one-shots that traces Jazz and Prowl's life from youth to the end of the war. Eventual J/P.
1. Orphans

Disclaimer: Transformers © Hasbro. Me no own.

**Orphans**

_He's my best friend / best of all best friend / do you have a best friend too?_

_Toy Box_

They were young, Optimus had to admit. He watched as they played in the makeshift jungle gym the youth sector had set up for the sparklings to enjoy. At his side was Ultra Magnus, on the other side of the Iacon youth sector was Megatron, his co-ruler, attempting to negotiate funding. The two sparklings Ultra Magnus wanted to show him were currently chasing each other around the swings, yelling and laughing like sparklings were prone to do. Optimus glanced over at his longtime friend. "Any particular reason these two stick out in your processor?" he asked.

Magnus smiled. "Just watch them."

Optimus did. Their similarities were striking – opposite paint schemes of the same two colors, one with doorwings just starting to bud, the other with sensory horns on his helm. "What happened to their creators?" Prime asked, content to watch their play.

Magnus shrugged. "We think they were abandoned."

That earned an odd look from Prime. "Abandoned?"

"We found them outside the youth sector, recently sparked." Magnus explained, distaste clear in his tone. While Magnus was not as openly affectionate with the younglings as others who worked with him were, he cared for them in his own way. "They didn't even have designations."

One of the older sparklings came racing past the pair, almost knocking the smaller one with the horns over. The doorwinger quickly reached out and grabbed his comrade's arm, steadying him. "Okay?"

"Okay." And the play continued.

Optimus's optics widened. "He's blind." he murmured. The grey optics were a clear indication of the defect. Magnus shook his head.

"He's not."

"How do you know?"

"He's got Prowl." Magnus nodded to the pair. "Prowl and Jazz. They named themselves not too long after they started speaking. As long as Prowl is in the same area as Jazz, Jazz can see. Or at least he acts like he can. We think they're sharing a comm. link, but who knows for sure? We've been trying to create a visor for Jazz, but he won't let the only scientist we have near him."

Optimus nodded, watching the new with new fascination. "Have you found families for them yet?"

"No. We don't have anyone who can take in two at once." Magnus said with a sigh. "They won't separate. We had a couple try to take in Prowl, but he refused to leave without Jazz. I think if we could find a way to keep them in contact with each other, they might accept separate families."

The two fell silent, watching as Prowl and Jazz collapsed against the swings. One of the femmes Prime recognized as Chromia – Ironhide's mate – walked onto the playground, calling out to the sparklings. Nap time, apparently. Magnus chuckled. "Oh, she's gonna be in for it if she doesn't watch out."

"What do you mean?"

"The real reason I wanted you to see those two."

Prowl and Jazz exchanged looks and smirks. Jazz quickly darted off towards the other side of the jungle gym, clearly the faster of the two. Prowl climbed to the top of the swing set, crouched on the top bar with his doorwings flared. Chromia glanced around, then caught sight of Jazz and sighed.

"Jazz! You'd better get over here! Don't make me have to come chasing after you!" Her tone was stern, but Optimus could see the affection in her optics. Chromia always did have a weak spot for the sparklings. She walked underneath the swing set.

"Attack!" Prowl cried out, and three different sparklings – including Jazz – proceeded to mob Chromia, grabbing hold of her legs and arms and trying to pull her to the ground. Chromia jerked in shock, but laughed as she playfully gave in. Prowl continued to direct the 'attack' from his safe position on the swing set.

Magnus chuckled. "So much for nap time."

Optimus was grinning. "Do they always do this?"

"Not often enough to get boring." Magnus said. "But yes, every now and again they stage a coup. The last time this happened Moonracer was here as well. She got Prowl off the swings, and Jazz attacked her to free Prowl. It turned into a four-on-two battle against nap time."

"Planning and surprise." Optimus said. "I like it."

"I thought you would." Magnus chuckled. "They have the potential to be truly great officers, with a bit of training and guidance."

"The Academy is for the first." Optimus glanced at Magnus. "You have a plan for the second."

"Isn't Elita complaining that it's too quiet without Ratchet around?"

"She won't be complaining about that for much longer when Ratchet and Wheeljack start bringing the Twins around." Optimus shot back, already knowing where this was going. "Besides, we couldn't take on two at once. You know that."

"I do." Magnus agreed. "But I've been planning on taking Jazz in for some time now. I think it's about time Sentinel had a little brother, don't you?"

Optimus couldn't help an undignified snort. "Magnus, no offence, but Sentinel would take about as kindly to that as he would to a virus."

Magnus chuckled. "Perhaps. But with him gone and my mate dead, it gets lonely in the house." he said. "For my peace of mind and Jazz's future, I would like to take him on. Since we live so close together anyway, I thought you'd might like to take on Prowl."

"Keep them together while letting them live out of here." Optimus nodded. "I see the logic." He turned his focus back to the sparklings, who had finally admitted defeat and were slowly following Chromia to their recharge berths. "I will have to think on it."

Magnus nodded, knowing that was the best he was going to get out of Prime today. "Do so." he said softly. "Who knows, Prime? Maybe we all can benefit from them."

Prime chuckled. "That would not surprise me in the least, old friend."


	2. Broken Home

AN: Holy crap! You guys are great! Nine reviews on a first chapter that quick is unheard of for me. So, in my gratitude, here's another chapter just for you.

**Broken Home**

_When all you've got to keep is strong / move along, move along like I know ya do / _

_and even when your hope is gone / move along move along just to make it through_

_All-American Rejects_

They sat together in the corner of Magnus's office, waiting for all the paperwork to be filled out. Prowl had a firm grip on Jazz's hand, the smaller mech pressed tightly against his side. They could hear some amount of the conversation from one of the other offices, but not enough to hear the words. Jazz glanced at Prowl, who continued to stare at the floor.

"They ain't keepin' us." he reminded his friend. Prowl simply nodded. Jazz scowled. "How come you ain't fightin' then? We promised, 'member?"

"I 'member." Prowl murmured. He refused to look at Jazz. "Magnus wants ya. He said we'd stay close." He hunched his shoulders, doorwings drooping. Jazz looked away.

"They won't."

"He promised."

"He won't." Jazz reiterated, mistrust lacing his voice. "He's got another sparklin'. He take care of him first, cuz he's his."

Prowl glanced at Jazz. "He promised." he said firmly. "He won't take it back. 'Sides, Op'mus won't take it back." Jazz nodded and scooted closer. Prowl shifted so he could wrap his arm around Jazz's shoulders. Jazz leaned against his friend, taking comfort from his presence.

"What if he does?" he said finally.

"Then I find you." Prowl said bluntly. "Just like last time. They won't keep us apart."

"Good." Jazz shuttered his optics, something he had picked up from Prowl. It unnerved the older mechs when he recharged with his optics on, not like it bothered him any – he couldn't see anyway. Prowl adjusted his grip so his friend could rest more comfortably against him.

Outside of the office, Optimus's spark ached as he listened in. He glanced at Magnus. Magnus simply shrugged. "The last time, one of our couples claimed they could take both of them in." he explained quietly. "They couldn't, so instead they just took Prowl, despite the fuss he put up. They promised him they'd come back for Jazz. Two days later we got a report that Prowl had gone missing. We found him the next morning recharging with Jazz where Moonracer had let him in." He shook his head. "Prowl means what he says. It isn't safe for Jazz to go hunting for him, so he hunts for Jazz."

Optimus nodded. "It's a good thing we live next door to each other." he said softly.

Magnus chuckled. "Agreed."

Prime tilted his head to the side as he considered the now-silent sparklings. "Is it possible that they know what happened to their creators?" he mused.

"Possible, but not likely." Magnus said. "They probably invented some story on their own. Unfortunately, I don't think we were the only ones to conclude that they were abandoned. Between that and so many of our couples turning them down for one reason or another, they just don't trust us older mechs."

"That's not surprising." Optimus opened the office door and turned his focus to Prowl. The young doorwinger was watching them intently, his grip on Jazz tightening. Optimus almost sighed. This was going to be far more difficult than he had imagined. "Are you ready to go, Prowl?"

"Jazz asleep." Prowl said flatly. Optimus nodded.

"Then we'll wait for him to wake up."

That must have taken the sparkling by surprise – Optimus could see the little wheels turning in his processor. Finally, he nodded curtly. "Kay." But he did not relax.

Optimus and Magnus were going to have to prove themselves if they stood any chance at all of bonding with the sparklings.

/-----/

AN: These little one-shots are going to be of varying lengths, so occasionally there'll be one extremely short one thrown in with the other normal-length ones. Hopefully there won't be too many short ones.


	3. Visor

**Visor**

_I'm dedicating this / to the ones that don't exist / are you hearing this?_

_Kill Hannah_

Prowl and Jazz were used to being invisible. They were used to being overlooked, lied to, and even manipulated to a degree, although they weren't old enough to understand what it all meant. They certainly weren't used to getting their own rooms – the youth sector they had known their entire lives hadn't had the room for each sparkling and youngling to get their own place. Prowl and Jazz had shared a room with two other sparklings, one of whom had been prone to nightmares. They were used to simply relying on each other.

It felt strange, even several years later, to realize that someone else was taking care of Jazz like Prowl used to.

"Prowl!" Elita called out. "Jazz is here!"

It also felt very strange to _not_ have to fight every day just for the chance to see Jazz. Prowl shot off his recharge berth and hurtled down the hallway. One would have thought that the leader of the Autobots would have had a bigger home in a better part of Praxus, but that wasn't Optimus's style. It took him a mere second to skid to a halt in the living area where Optimus, Magnus, and Jazz were waiting. Before he even had the chance to get his feet fully under him, Jazz knocked him over, sending them both tumbling to the ground. Prowl laughed.

"Off, you lugnut!"

"No! Yer mine!"

Magnus chuckled. "I wasn't going to bring him over until this weekend, but he kept pestering me about it." he explained. "That and I was hoping I could talk to Wheeljack."

"Ratchet and Wheeljack should be by any minute now." Optimus said, checking his internal chronometer. "The Twins are probably holding them up." Almost on cue, a knock sounded from the front door and Elita opened it to see the small family on their doorstep.

Ratchet had been happy to hear that his creators had adopted a youngling, even one with unusual baggage like Prowl. He had grown rather fond of the tiny, serious mech during the few times he'd been able to get away from his work and come visit (then again, with a bondmate like Wheeljack, it wasn't very surprising that his work seemed to dominate his life). Even Wheeljack, who usually wasn't very good with sparklings, seemed to attract Prowl's attention. The Twins, on the other hand –

The Twins quickly darted past their creators and joined the wrestling pair inside. "Mech pile!" little Sunstreaker cried out as he jumped on top of Prowl and Jazz, his twin Sideswipe following suit. Prowl and Jazz yelped and attempted to squirm out from under the two. Magnus chuckled.

"Good to see you again, Ratchet, Wheeljack." he greeted the couple. Ratchet smiled and nodded.

"Likewise, Magnus."

"Let me go, you slagger!"

"Make me, glitch-head!"

"Jazz!" Magnus snapped. "What have I told you about using that kind of language?" Jazz murmured an apology, and the game continued without interruption. Magnus sighed. "I have no idea where he's picking that up from."

"The Twins." Wheeljack said without hesitation. "You try telling sparklings not to repeat what they hear their creators say." He looked pointedly at Ratchet, who simply smirked at him. Wheeljack sighed. "So what brings you here?"

"Other than Jazz?" Magnus chuckled, indicating the sparklings with a wave of his hand. "I wanted to ask a favor of you."

"Go on."

"You know about Jazz's disability. I was wondering if you could create a visor for him."

"You're asking Wheeljack to do this?" Optimus asked, mirth plain in his optics.

"Didn't you try this before?" Ratchet asked.

"Well, yes." Magnus responded, choosing to ignore Optimus for the moment. "Jazz wouldn't let Hook anywhere near him, and Prowl wasn't about to leave him alone where he wasn't comfortable." Ratchet couldn't help but chuckle while Wheeljack considered.

"He seems to do just fine without." Wheeljack pointed out.

"He does just fine with Prowl." Magnus said dryly. "I can't count how many times he's run into things at our house. He's more prone to just find a corner and play there unless I carry him around with me. He's too active to tolerate that for long."

"We suspect Jazz has ADD." Elita said dryly. Ratchet laughed outright at that.

Wheeljack nodded. "I'll see what I can do."

/----/

It was another three weeks before Jazz had the chance to go to Prowl's house again. His visor fit just perfectly over his optics, and he was ecstatic with his new toy. Magnus had told him it would help him get around without Prowl having to be there. Jazz had thought of a completely different use for it. He could get along just fine without the visor – it was really just a matter of learning the layout of a place. He knew Prowl's house like the back of his hand. He wasn't inclined to learn much of Magnus's house in the same way.

Sentinel hadn't been too happy about getting a little brother. Jazz steered clear of him when he came home, and that was frequently.

Jazz walked over to Prowl's house by himself for the first time. Magnus had been right – they lived right next door to each other. Prowl had been right as well. Maybe they had finally found older mechs they could trust.

Prowl was laying on his berth reading a datapad he had taken from Optimus's office – with permission, of course – when Jazz snuck into his room. Letting out a whoop, Jazz jumped onto Prowl and trailed his fingers over his doorwings. Prowl yelped and flipped over, the datapad forgotten.

"Jazz! That tickles!"

"I know!" Jazz said cheerfully. Prowl opened his mouth to reprimand him, stopped, and grinned.

"You got a visor!" he said, pointing. Jazz grinned and nodded vigorously. Prowl pulled Jazz into a fierce hug. "Told ya Jack was good."

"Yer right. Again." Jazz teased, relaxing into his friend's embrace. "I think we got a family now, Prowler." Prowl nodded.

"I think so too." he said solemnly.

Jazz grinned and looked up at Prowl. "Now ya don't got to take care of me no more." he said happily. "Now I c'n take care of you."

/----/

An: For the sake of a timeline, let's say Prowl and Jazz are 2-3 in the first two, 5 in this one, and they'll be 10-13 in the next few one-shots. I'll let you know as the age bracket changes.

Oh, and if you have a song fragment (or even a quote) that you think would make a good springboard for a one-shot, let me know. I could use the extra input there. (Do mechs even have ADD? Oh, well, mine do! Helps that my best friend Jazz has ADD . . . smiles at Jazz)


	4. Defense

AN: This one dedicated to VolturiGirl, for both the quote and the plot idea. Thanks a lot – I wasn't really sure what I was going to do for this one!

**Defense**

_I run from hate / I run from prejudice / but I run too late_

_Lady Antebellum_

After living for a while on the same block, Jazz knew pretty much every youngling there was. He knew that Sunstreaker and Sideswipe – universally known as the Twins, even by their own creators – lived a few blocks west of his and Prowl's street. He knew exactly how many steps it took to get to Bumblebee's house, the little minibot who lived a few houses down from Prowl on the opposite end of the block. The neighborhood was his to command.

Jazz had even gotten comfortable enough to walk around without his visor. He didn't do it often – the adults still tended to look at him funny and he had gotten used to it, oddly enough – but sometimes he would sneak down to Prowl's house without his visor on, just for old time's sake. To prove he could.

Prowl was the one mech who never looked at him funny when he didn't have his visor on. Prowl of all mechs understood one thing very clearly: Jazz could take care of himself.

Now was one of those nights where Jazz had left his visor in his room and had set off for Prowl's. It was exactly thirty steps to Prowl's front door, another ten to the left and four to the right after that to get to Prowl's bedroom window. It was a path Jazz had taken many times over during their stay in Praxus. It was still so hard to think of it as a permanent home, never mind that Jazz could honestly say that he had lived with Magnus for longer than he had lived in the youth center back in Iacon.

Jazz made it all the way to Prowl's front door when he heard the footsteps. They must have been flyers – that was the only way they could have snuck up on Jazz. He thought there might have been three of them, perhaps four. Without Prowl to keep an optic out for him, he was at a slight disadvantage.

"What are you doing out here?" Male, highly agitated, not much older than Jazz himself. Jazz had gotten good at judging emotions from voice patterns. Jazz frowned.

"I'm visitin' my friend." he said bluntly. "What're you doin' out here?"

"This is our territory." A different voice, still young. "We're keeping our territory safe, you know?"

Jazz tilted his head to the side, considering. "That makes absolutely no sense." he muttered. Louder, he added, "Who're you people?"

"I'm Starscream." the first voice said. "These two are Skywarp and Thundercracker. These blocks are ours."

Jazz shook his head. "Sorry, didn't know." Didn't particularly care, either. It must have shown in his tone. Starscream took a step towards him.

"Hey, how come your optics look funny?"

"Yours don't?" Jazz shot back, almost immediately regretting it. The conversation was getting too loud – he was going to wake up Optimus at the rate this was going. Starscream ignored the comment and laughed.

"You're blind!" He pointed a finger at Jazz. "TC, Sky – check it out! He's that cripple Dad was telling us about!" He grinned at Jazz. "You must be a freak. I've never seen a mech with no optics."

Jazz hesitated, unsure. This was a first.

"I've never seen a mech with as big of an ego as you have." came a dry response from behind Jazz, and he relaxed instantly. Prowl walked up behind him and placed a hand on his shoulder, watching Starscream intently. "So what are you overcompensating for?"

Starscream just stared at Prowl. "What?"

Prowl shook his head. Jazz was snickering by now, being far too used to Prowl's brand of harassing mechs. "Never mind. What do you want?"

"Are you friends with the cripple or something?"

"Yes." Prowl said in what was clearly a and-you-care-why? tone. Starscream snickered.

"That must be fun. Do you have to hold his hand everywhere you go? Does he get lost if you let go?" he taunted. Skywarp and Thundercracker laughed. Starscream flashed them a grin and kept going. "I'll bet he chases away all the other mechs, cuz he's a freak!"

Prowl tilted his head to the side, his voice calm when he spoke, but Jazz could feel his grip tightening. Prowl rarely got annoyed, but this Starscream person had him royally slagged off.

"Don't you know it's dangerous to use your entire vocabulary in a single sentence?"

Starscream scowled. "Are you insulting me?"

"Wow, Prowler – he finally got it." Jazz cackled. Prowl cast him a smirk. Starscream was positively livid by now, and Skywarp and Thundercracker were simply exchanging looks, waiting to see what the ringleader would do now.

Starscream took a step forward. "You wanna fight me?"

"What would that prove?" Prowl asked dryly. "You're obviously a coward who couldn't hold his own in a fight."

Starscream took another step forward, but a voice stopped him.

"Prowl! What are you doing outside?"

Starscream and his friends scattered quickly. Apparently even they recognized Prime's voice. Prowl shrugged. "Just talking to Jazz. Can he spend the night tonight?"

Optimus chuckled. "Why not? He spends enough time here as it is."

"Thank you." Prowl lead the way into the house, stopping long enough to give Optimus a hug. Jazz didn't breathe a word until they were safely in Prowl's bedroom. Prowl stretched out on his berth. This night Jazz didn't bother pulling out the spare he usually used. He simply slid in between Prowl and the wall.

"What was his problem?" he muttered, snuggling into Prowl.

Prowl shrugged and wrapped his arm around Jazz. "I don't know." he admitted. "You all right?"

"I think so." Jazz looked up at Prowl. "Am I a freak?"

Prowl tightened his grip on his smaller friend. "No." he said vehemently. "You're not a freak. He's the freak, walking around like that in the middle of the night picking on my friend –" he broke off, continuing to mutter under his breath. Jazz couldn't help but laugh as he got comfortable.

Prowl was a liar. Jazz really was a freak – after all, how many mechs could say they were more comfortable blind than they were with functioning optics?

He shuttered his optics and sighed in contentment. At least he was Prowl's freak.

/----/

An: I thought this would be a good way to introduce my favorite rivalry – Prowl vs Starscream! (laughs) I tried to keep the speech patterns consistent with the age and personalities, but let me know if there's anything I need to work on. As always, quotes and song fragments are appreciated.


	5. Block Party

**Block Party**

_Watch it burn / let it die / 'cause we are finally free tonight_

_Boys Like Girls_

It was something like a block party, Prowl decided. Elita had decided that Prowl needed to get out and interact with others his own age group – her words, not his. Prowl did not like interacting with anyone other than the Twins and Jazz, and the Twins were a recent exception to his usual rule. He was too shy to really open up and talk to others, so the others tended to ignore him. So she had escorted him to this little idea of hers while Optimus was gone – something diplomatic he had to do with Megatron. Prowl had ignored the specifics. Politics were boring.

Chromia, of all femmes, was hosting the party. Elita was currently standing with her, chatting and helping her keep an eye on the younglings. Prowl couldn't see Ironhide. Chances were Chromia's mate was off being Prime's bodyguard. The two femmes were the only adults in Chromia's living room. How they kept track of as many younglings as there were was beyond Prowl, especially when they weren't even paying attention.

Prowl had found himself a corner and was sitting quietly. He could see the Twins playing in a separate corner (at least the adults assumed they were playing; from his position Prowl could easily see the mini catapult they were working on), Starscream and his minions were parading around and generally making a nuisance of themselves, the minibot Bumblebee was playing with a friend of his on the couch, and there were one or two other younglings Prowl didn't know by name. Aside from saying polite hellos to him, none of the other younglings had spoken to him. At least with the Twins it was nothing personal – they knew very well this was not Prowl's comfort zone.

Standing by the wall and watching the barely controlled chaos, Elita sighed. "I can't figure out how to get him to come out of his shell." she murmured. Chromia nodded.

"Bluestreak is the same way." she said with a nod towards Bumblebee's friend. "If Bee isn't here, then he won't interact with anyone. It got to the point where it was just easier to let him make friends his own way."

Elita smiled slightly. "Prowl doesn't make friends."

Chromia tilted her head to the side. "He's friends with Jazz." she pointed out. Elita gave her a look. Chromia chuckled. "Point. That doesn't exactly count, does it? Then again, Ratchet had the same problem, and he's turned out just fine."

"Ratchet's life is his work." Elita said. "I worry about him sometimes."

"I'd worry more about his bondmate." Chromia said dryly. "Wheeljack can't seem to keep himself out of the med bay for longer than two days, tops." Elita chuckled. Chromia smiled. "Relax, Elita. Prowl will come from his shell in time." There was a knock on the door, interrupting the conversation. Chromia opened the door, revealing Magnus and Sentinel, back from his training. Chromia's smile grew brighter. "Magnus! What brings you here, and with Sentinel as well?"

Sentinel nodded stoically to Chromia, while Magnus embraced her briefly before pulling back. "Oh, we heard you were having one of your famous youngling parties and thought we'd drop by." He took a step back, revealing a small mech with a visor covering his optics. "Maybe Jazz can make himself some friends here."

Prowl's head perked up. Jazz took a step into the room, his gaze casting over Starscream and his friends. He waved happily at Bumblebee, smiled at the other younglings, and called out a greeting to the Twins. His gaze found Prowl, and a bright smile spread across his face. He quickly made his way to the corner and crouched in front of his friend.

"Whatcha doin' over here?" he teased.

Prowl smiled tolerantly. "I don't like crowds." he reminded Jazz. Jazz shrugged.

"I know. Least ya can do is talk to the Twins."

"The Twins are having their own fun." Prowl pointed to them, where they were starting to arm their mini catapult. Jazz chuckled. Prowl grinned. "I get up and go over there now, they won't have any fun at all. Elita's been watching me like a robo-hawk."

Jazz grimaced sympathetically. "I take it she roped ya into this?"

"Pretty much."

"I begged Magnus to bring me." Jazz jerked his thumb at Sentinel. "Can't stand bein' around the glitch any longer than I have to."

Prowl chuckled. "Don't say that too loud."

A split second later Bluestreak shrieked as a mini-block went flying past him to smack into the wall above his head. The Twins exploded into laughter and darted across the room, one slagged-off Bluestreak hot on their trail. Jazz doubled over laughing so hard, Prowl simply grinning as he watched his friends play. Bumblebee was cheering Bluestreak on from a safe place on the couch.

Jazz finally got control of himself. "Wanna go even the odds?"

Prowl smiled. "Sure. Why not?"

Elita couldn't help but smile as Prowl followed Jazz from his corner and joined the group. Maybe Jazz would be the one to help Prowl break free.


	6. Promises Broken

**Promises Broken**

_Just a little insight won't make this right / it's too late to fight / it ends tonight_

_The All-American Rejects_

"No!" Prowl stood rigid in front of Optimus, door wings stiff and high. His optics were so pale they were almost white. Optimus couldn't tell if it was the shock or the anger that he could sense simmering through his adopted son. "We can't leave!"

"I don't have a choice, Prowl." Optimus said quietly.

"You're the leader of the Autobots!" Prowl shouted. "Tell them you don't want to go!"

"I still have to answer to the Council." Optimus explained patiently. "I still have to go where they tell me I'll do the most good. You know that."

Prowl did know that. It had been explained to him when he asked Elita why Optimus was gone so often when he'd rather be at home. He understood, to a degree, why Optimus was leaving. He knew that, because Optimus would be gone for longer than normal (read as Optimus had no slagging clue when the Council would set him free from this one) he would be taking Prowl and Elita with him. There was just one thing that Prowl was having issues with.

"Why can't Jazz come with us?"

"Jazz has to stay with Magnus." Optimus said, exasperation starting to tinge his voice. He didn't quite understand the younglings' almost frantic need to stay close to each other, especially after such a long time. When they were nothing more than sparklings, he had understood better. By now Prowl knew Optimus would be there for him, and Jazz knew Magnus was the same. Optimus could understand Prowl and Jazz being sad at being separated, but not this panic and anger.

"We could stay with Ratchet and Wheeljack!" Prowl said, but Optimus was already shaking his head.

"They can't take in you two. They have enough to deal with taking care of Sunstreaker and Sideswipe. I wouldn't ask that of them."

"Then where's Magnus taking Jazz?" Prowl demanded, not giving an inch.

Optimus sighed. "Even I don't know that one." he said. "Magnus's missions are top secret. You know that as well."

"It's not Ultra Magnus I'm asking about." Prowl said darkly. "I'm asking about Jazz."

"If I tell you one, I've told you the other." Prime pointed out reasonably. "Besides, it doesn't change the fact that I don't know."

Prowl stamped his foot. "I deserve to know!"

That took Optimus by surprise. "Why?"

"He's _my_ Jazz!"

Optimus fell silent. Prowl was trembling now, his anger gone only to be replaced with something that looked very much like fear. Prime's spark clenched. He reached out to take Prowl into his arms, provide what comfort he could, but the young doorwinger backed away. "You promised, Optimus."

That almost broke Prime. "I know, Prowl." he sighed. "I was foolish to promise you that."

Prowl hesitated, but he stepped forward, allowing Prime to hold him.

/-----/

Jazz curled up beside Prowl, holding tightly to his friend. Prowl stroked his helm, trying to calm his tears. "It's going to be okay, Jazz." he whispered. "I promise."

Jazz shuddered. "Stupid slagging Magnus." he muttered, burying his face in Prowl's neck. "He promised, Prowl. He promised."

"It isn't his fault." Prowl said quietly. "It's the Council that reassigned him. They reassigned Optimus too."

Jazz pulled back with a start, staring up at Prowl. Without his visor, it was so much easier to see the shock and fear on his face. "Ya ain't staying here, either?"

"No. We're heading out to Tyger Pax to oversee the construction of some base or another." Prowl's voice was dark. Jazz promptly buried his face in Prowl's neck once again.

"Stupid slagging Council. How're we supposed to find each other again?"

Prowl's grip on him tightened. "I don't know."

It was then that Jazz realized – it was his turn now. Optimus would never let Prowl leave to hunt him down. Magnus wouldn't let Jazz leave either, but with Magnus's access to the main computers of the Autobots, Jazz could search records for days if he had to. This time, it was Jazz's turn to hunt for Prowl.

Jazz reached up and stroked Prowl's helm. "It'll be al'right, Prowler. I promise."


	7. Heartbroken

**Heartbroken**

_It's a damn cold night / trying to figure out this life_

_Avril Lavigne_

Prowl had decided – he hated Tyger Pax. The military city was full of officers and other younglings his age, but it was also home of Megatron and the rivalry between the Decepticons and the Autobots. Prowl found himself often at the center of unwanted attention, especially from a certain mech named Shockwave. He was Megatron's most loyal supporter, and that was a bit debatable. No one was entirely sure if he was supporting Megatron or simply trying to get close enough to overthrow him, but Prowl didn't particularly care about that.

For whatever reason, Shockwave had taken to trying to talk to Prowl whenever he had the chance. Prowl always stayed silent, not trusting this new mech any further than he could throw him. Which he couldn't.

It also didn't help that none of the other younglings would look twice at him. Prowl was quiet, shy, and more interested in browsing the massive library than actually going out and trying to get into trouble. He wasn't interesting to them, and so they ignored him. Prowl knew each of them by name and creator, but he doubted they knew his.

He was Prime's kid. Not that Prowl minded – there were worse mechs to belong to – but still, it would be nice to be noticed.

Jazz had never called him by anything other than his name.

The thoughts about Jazz usually made his spark clench. It also led him to do some pretty stupid things, like trying to sneak out of Tyger Pax by hiding in the back of a transport drone. Optimus had not been pleased with him then. Prowl hadn't even bothered trying to explain himself. How would Optimus ever understand what Prowl and Jazz had promised each other? Prowl had sworn to him that if anyone ever separated them, Prowl would find him.

They were barely old enough to speak when that promise was made, a voice given to sparklings' dreams. Still, a promise was a promise. Prowl was breaking his.

How was he supposed to find Jazz if he couldn't even leave the city?

It continued on like that for years. Prowl slowly grew accustomed to the idea of not having Jazz with him, but he never got used to it. It still hurt every time he opened his mouth to ask if he could go visit Jazz, just before he realized that Jazz was no longer there. He became more withdrawn as the years went by, keeping to himself and his books. Learning was distracting and enjoyable, and so he learned as much as he could about everything that he could.

Optimus didn't realize exactly what kind of information Prowl was absorbing until he noticed the youngling watching him and Megatron intently while they discussed troop placement in Prime's living room. Prowl was staring at him as if trying to communicate with him without actually speaking. When Megatron left, Prowl spoke.

"You shouldn't have agreed to that." he said mildly.

Optimus gave him a look. "Why not? It was a reasonable request."

"It was preemptive." Prowl didn't take his optics from Prime as he spoke. "Now Megatron knows that if things go sour, he has enough troops at that base to secure it for the Decepticons. Before he only had a handful – you could have easily handled that much. He's preparing for a war." Optimus considered that, and realized Prowl was absolutely correct.

Maybe that was what made Optimus insist he enroll at the Academy when he became the Cybertronian equivalent of a fourteen-year-old. Prowl didn't protest too much.

After all, the Academy was well away from Tyger Pax, well out of Prime's optic range. Not to mention that the Academy could provide him with the tools he needed to keep his promise to Jazz.

He was going to find him.

/----/

Jazz had declared his opinion of Kalis the first day he had arrived there with Magnus – it sucked.

For one thing, Jazz was the only youngling there. Period. Kalis was a city for scientists and politicians, not a place for younglings who had more energy than most mechs knew how to deal with. Magnus tolerated Jazz following him around the first couple of days they were there, but the others hated it with a vengeance.

So Jazz was left to his own devices, which Magnus really never should have allowed. Usually when Jazz got bored, he would find Prowl and Prowl would entertain him – either with stories he had read when they couldn't actually go out and make a ruckus or by simply helping him plan a million and one pranks and then helping him get away with them. So Jazz began executing pranks he and Prowl had devised but never got the chance to pull. As the days morphed into years and blurred together, Jazz realized two very important things:

One – he was good at getting in and out of places he shouldn't be able to, and doing it unseen, and

Two – Prowl would have been proud of the chaos he could cause.

Jazz also learned that, if he stayed hidden in the air vent just above what had been designated as Magnus's office, he had a clear view of not only Magnus's computer, but the datapads of anyone who entered the office. He spent weeks in the air vent, gathering codes and all sorts of information a youngling wasn't supposed to have.

That was how Jazz learned the third most important thing he could ever know about himself:

He was good at hacking. Very, _very_ good.

Jacking into computers was second nature to him, something he could do with simple ease. Once, when he was incredibly bored (and definitely old enough to know better) he made all the computers in Kalis lock up with a simple code word. Magnus had been livid and ordered Jazz to fix the computers, and then passed it off as a simple mechanical failure. Jazz would have preferred Magnus to just tell them all that a worthless youngling had just managed to find the one vital weakness of linked computers. Just to see their reaction.

It would have been amusing.

Jazz snuck into Magnus's office, determined intent in his optics. He quietly hacked into Magnus's computer, bypassing the authentication codes, and brought up the personell files. He scrolled through the list, his optics flickering quickly, and a feral grin crossed his face when he found his intended target. He clicked on the link, and scrolled through the information.

Tyger Pax. That much he already knew from before Prowl left. But where, exactly, was Tyger Pax in relation to Kalis? Surely that information had to be in the data banks.

It wasn't. Jazz snarled silently. Well, time for a different approach. He scanned the information carefully, searching for anything at all that might be able to help him.

It was not right, being separated from Prowl. What if that Starscream punk was in Tyger Pax with him? What if the other younglings (at least there were younglings there) tried to hurt him, like Starscream wanted to hurt Jazz? Prowl wasn't the type to fight with his fists – Jazz had to be there to protect him! His processor whirled with more disturbing possibilities, but came to a stuttering halt when he caught sight of one word in Prowl's file.

_Academy._

Jazz's smile was nothing short of predatory. _Gotcha._

The next morning, Magnus would never understand how Jazz managed to wind up enrolled at the Academy, or why the youngling – who usually preferred play to learning – looked so smug about it. He simply sighed and signed off on it.

Jazz could honestly say that, for the first time in a long time, he was happy. Things were finally going right.


	8. Day One

**Day One**

_Hello my friend we meet again / it's been a while where should we begin / feels like forever_

_Creed_

The Academy was located in Iacon, Prowl's home city, and not ten blocks from the youth center where Prowl and jazz had lived until they were adopted. In fact, Astrotrain had driven the group of eager younglings right pas the Iacon youth sector on the way in from Tyger Pax. Prowl had refused to look at it. Childish, perhaps, but he couldn't stop the reaction.

Primus, he missed Jazz.

He shook the thoughts away. There would be plenty of time for that later, when he had a bit more privacy.

The campus was slagging _huge_, much bigger than Optimus and Elita had led him to believe. He could feel the slight edge of panic that always came in situations like this. Prowl hated crowds with a passion, and there were very few situations where the doorwinger could completely ignore the sensations that passed through his wing panels. Usually Jazz was with him, providing some sort of distraction. He shivered slightly as someone passed a bit too close to him for comfort. His doorwings had always been far more sensitive than they should have been, and Prowl could never figure out how to tone down the sensory imput.

He didn't realize he was backing up, trying to get away from the sudden influx of sensations, until two mechs grabbed his shoulders. He twisted free, getting ready to lash out at whoever had touched him, and relaxed instantly when he saw who it was. Sunstreaker and Sideswipe stood just behind him, wearing identical grins of mischief.

"It is rather intimidating, isn't it?" Sunstreaker said, sounding oddly cheerful.

"Still, if we can't run away, neither can you." Sideswipe said dryly. Prowl stared at them both.

"Did you two switch personalities since the last time I saw you?" he asked, staring at them with his head tilted to the side. Sunstreaker doubled over laughing while Sideswipe just looked at him like he had lost his processor.

"Sides is pissed because I know something he doesn't." Sunstreaker said with a wicked smirk. "It's not like he won't find out eventually."

"But you always tell me everything!" Sideswipe protested. "Why won't you tell me now?"

"Because you've got a big mouth, that's why." Sunstreaker teased. "Don't worry – you'll know soon enough." Prowl laughed as Sideswipe scowled at his twin. He could add another two mechs to the list of people he had missed horribly while he was in Tyger Pax. Sunstreaker cast him a smirk. "He's so much fun to tease, Uncle Prowl!"

Wow. Sunny must have been in a good mood. "Don't call me that." Prowl said with no real malice.

Sunstreaker grinned. "We love you, Uncle Prowl."

"Mute it, Sunshine."

Sunstreaker mock-scowled while Sideswipe burst into laughter, his previous annoyance gone. "I am gonna _have_ to remember that." he said with a grin. "Sunshine. That's epic!"

"Do you like living, Sideswipe?" Sunstreaker said dryly.

"Aw, Sunshine, be a sport!" Sideswipe teased. Prowl couldn't help a smirk at that. Sideswipe had a death wish.

They made it through the assembly in the rec room with few problems. Prowl had found a nice area with no one sitting behind him to shield his doorwings, making the suffocating feeling just a bit easier to deal with. The Twins kept a running commentary on the rules and regulations going (and it was all Prowl could do to keep from laughing outright at some of their jokes) and Prowl got the distinct impression they were just trying to distract him. Aside from Jazz, the Twins were the only ones who knew about Prowl's aversion to crowds. The teachers assigned dorm rooms (Sentinel was a teacher at the Academy? Prowl had to laugh at that one) and the crowd once again filtered out into the halls.

Prowl could hear mechs yelling at each other, calling out for friends and relatives, meeting new people and finding their dorm mates. It was noisy as the Pit. Prowl turned down his audios so the noise didn't completely deafen him. He found his dorm building easily enough, with the Twins.

Whoever made Sunstreaker and Sideswipe dorm mates was an idiot. That was all Prowl could think as he typed in the lock code on his own door and slid it open. After all, the Twins had shared a room when they lived with Wheeljack and Ratchet, and Prowl knew the unholy mess their room stayed in constantly.

There was another mech in his room, and Prowl belatedly remembered that yeah, he did have a dorm mate, didn't he? He was about to walk over to the empty berth and drop his bag on it and just collapse, but then the other mech turned around.

Prowl froze. His optics paled in shock. This new mech was wearing a visor. Only one mech Prowl knew of wore a visor.

He took a step forward, unsure. After trying so slagging hard to find him, to finally have him just magically appear – it was almost too much to hope for.

"Jazzy?" He hated the way his voice shook.

Suddenly he found himself wrapped in a fierce embrace, Jazz's face buried in his neck. Prowl held on tightly, letting his bag fall to the ground, pure joy welling up in him.

"I found ya, Prowler." Jazz murmured happily. "I finally found ya."

"You did." Prowl pulled back enough to stare at Jazz. "How?"

Jazz grinned impishly. "Did ya know," he said in all seriousness, "that I happen to be very good at hacking?"

Prowl burst out laughing. "That does not surprise me." He pulled Jazz back to him. "You arranged all of this?"

Jazz grinned against his neck. "Well, this part at least." he said smugly. "I told ya everythin' would be all right, didn' I?"

/------/

AN: All right - in the next part of this, you're going to see some amazing similiarities between this story and Curse-of-the-Cat's Academy Adventures. That's because we roleplay this stuff long before we ever post it, so we have the same basic idea of how certain things worked out. So, while my story will never have chapters that appear in hers, certain things will stay the same. Just a heads-up.


	9. Sparring Sessions

An: Holy crap you guys are great! 70 reviews! Man oh man I never thought I would ever get that many reviews on something like this. You guys rock epically. Keep it up!

**Sparring Sessions**

_Don't judge a thing 'til you know what's inside it / don't push me I'll fight it_

_Brian Adams_

Fighting class was one of the few classes that Jazz, Prowl, and the Twins had the same time. Sometimes Prowl felt sorry for Ironhide, especially if the Twins were sparring each other. What had begun as sparkling games had quickly escalated into fights that Ironhide barely had control over. The Twins were strong, and sometimes they didn't know their own strength. Sometimes it was safer that they spar each other.

The one thing Jazz never understood, and always hated, was why Starscream insisted on fighting Prowl.

The two faced off against each other for the third time. Jazz's fists clenched. Starscream fought dirty, and Prowl just didn't fight that much at all. Prowl preferred using verbal jabs to confuse his opponent and just walk away, and under normal circumstances it worked. Jazz had to admit, he was doing a lot better now than he had been when they first arrived, but Starscream was still better. Prowl was already beat up from the first two rounds.

Ironhide was giving tips, but neither fighter paid him any attention. Starscream had an annoying knack for attacking when Ironhide was still talking, and Prowl refused to be caught off-guard again. Starscream smirked at him.

"Is this the best you can fight?" he asked quietly, low enough that Ironhide couldn't make out the words. "Primus, you're pathetic."

"Just because I didn't get my kicks out of harassing innocent mechs when I was a sparkling doesn't mean I can't plaster you across the floor." Prowl bit out. He was getting sick of this. At least most of the other students were about as hesitant at fighting Prowl as Prowl was fighting them. Ironhide had made it very clear that doorwings and sensory horns were off-limits. They were cautious when fighting Prowl.

Starscream could have cared less. His smirk turned cruel. "If this is the best you can do," he teased, his tone darkening in satisfaction, "then your cripple is in serious trouble. Who's gonna protect him when he can't protect himself?"

Prowl's optics narrowed. "You will not touch Jazz."

"Who's gonna stop me? A weakling like –"

Starscream never got the rest of the sentence out. Prowl shifted and lashed out, striking Starscream across the cheek. The seeker staggered backwards, and Prowl went after him, lashing out again and again. His fists pummeled Starscream's chassis. Ironhide called out encouragement. Prowl ignored him for the most part. He could not let Starscream get the upper hand on this one.

The seeker snarled and lashed out, dropping down to sweep Prowl's legs out from underneath him with his own. Prowl bit back a yelp as he went down, taking great care to fall on top of Starscream. The seeker shrieked in rage and twisted around, grabbing hold of Prowl's doorwing and pulling hard. Prowl couldn't completely suppress a yelp of pain then.

Jazz took a step forward, ready to intervene. "Prowl!"

Prowl's optics narrowed in anger. _Two can play that game._ He reached up and grabbed Starscream's doorwing, giving it a rough jerk. Starscream shrieked in pain and quickly let go of Prowl, trying to get back to his feet and get distance between them. Prowl refused to let him, using his grip on Starscream's doorwing to yank the seeker into a headlock. Starscream tried to twist free, but Prowl had a decent grip on him.

"Pit spawned slagger!" Starscream snarled. "Let me go!"

"You were saying something about me being weak?" Prowl said mildly.

"I said let me the pit go!"

"Break!" Ironhide called out, getting ready to forcibly separate them. Prowl let go of Starscream easily enough. The seeker stumbled backwards with several more colorful curses; the doorwinger simply smirked at him. "Starscream, what were you thinking?!" Ironhide demanded. "I told you slaggers doorwings were off-limits!"

"He grabbed mine!" Starscream whined.

Ironhide glared at him. "So you would let go of his, slagger." He sighed. "All right, enough of that. Bluestreak, Sunstreaker – you're up."

Prowl stalked back over to Jazz, flinching a little as his doorwings protested their unfair treatment. Jazz slid behind him and reached up to massage the joint where his doorwing met his shoulder. Jazz wouldn't touch Prowl's doorwing now that it was injured, but massaging the joint helped relieve the pain in the sensitive panel. "Thanks." he murmured.

"Not a problem." Jazz said fervently. "Man, I ain't never seen ya fight like that. What brought that on?"

Prowl glanced back at Jazz for a second before responding. "He gave me a good reason to fight him, that's all." he said calmly, turning back to watch Bluestreak and Sunstreaker spar. It was always more interesting watching Ironhide than the fight when it was Bluestreak's turn. Sometimes Prowl wondered if Ironhide was having a hard time letting his sparkling fight like this – other times Prowl wondered if Ironhide wasn't just bursting with pride.

Starscream stalked over to Prowl and Jazz. "You cheated."

"You cheated first." Prowl said cheerfully. Starscream scowled.

"I thought Prime's kid would be more honorable." he said snidely. "You know, not participating in unfair fights."

"The only unfair fight is the one you lose." Jazz quipped.

"Besides, if you find yourself in a fair fight, your tactics suck." Prowl laughed.

Starscream pointed a finger at Prowl. "Next time, doorwinger, you'll be mine." he hissed.

Jazz snickered. "Face it, Screamer," he said with a grin, "you'll never take Prowl."


	10. Realizations pt 1

**Realization Pt 1**

_Why don't you and I get together / take on the world be together forever_

_Santana ft Nickelback_

The rec room was always crowded after classes.

For once, Jazz wasn't sitting next to Prowl. The couch had already been claimed by the time he had gotten out of detention, and poor Prowl was sandwiched between Gears, Cliffjumper, and Bumblebee. At least Bee and 'Jumper were ignoring Prowl for the most part. Gears, on the other hand, was intently focused on Prowl. Jazz watched them from the other side of the rec room.

He wasn't entirely too sure what kept him by the wall, just watching instead of marching over and sitting on the back of the couch behind Prowl. He had always joined the conversation any way possible, especially when Prowl was concerned. For now, though, he was content to just watch.

It was Bluestreak who slid up next to him. "What'cha doing, Jazz you never just sit here and stare you usually harass Prowl what's wrong?"

Jazz chuckled. "Prowl looks preoccupied at the moment." he said. Gears shifted over closer to Prowl, reaching up to put his arm around Prowl's shoulders. Prowl tolerated that for about half a second and gently pushed Gears' arm away. Gears pouted, not deterred in the least.

Bluestreak frowned. "I don't know what Gears is thinking Prowl told him no I don't know how any times but Gears just won't listen you know?"

Jazz frowned. "Say what?"

Gears ran his fingers down Prowl's doorwing as he said something, his words lost in the general ruckus of the crowd. He was being too rough, Jazz realized with a frown; Prowl was stiffening in a way that could only be due to pain. Jazz may not have been able to hear Gears' words, but he could clearly read Prowl's expression even from this distance: _back off._

Bluestreak sighed. "Gears has a thing for Prowl didn't you know he thinks Prowl likes him back he's just being shy – Sunstreaker told him he was being an idiot and Prowl didn't feel anything for him –"

The rest of Bluestreak's banter was lost to Jazz. Something white-hot flared inside Jazz, so blindingly intense and unfamiliar that it took him a second to recognize it.

_Jealousy._

That didn't make any sense. Prowl could latch on to whomever he wanted to. It was no business of Jazz's, really.

_But I –_

Prowl's optics met Jazz's visor as his lifelong friend sent him a pleading look. Jazz left his position by the wall – and a still-babbling Bluestreak – willingly and sauntered over to Prowl. He draped his arm around Prowl's shoulder, taking care not to touch his doorwings. "Hey, Prowler – I need your help with that assignment Sentinel gave us. Lend a bro a hand?"

Prowl rolled his optics, but he was smiling when he stood up. "You really shouldn't hang around Mudflap and Skids." he said dryly. "They make you pick up on strange words." He didn't even look back at Gears as they walked out of the rec room, but Jazz made sure to glare at the minibot over his shoulder.

Whether it made a lick of sense or not, Jazz didn't want Gears anywhere near Prowl.

They holed up in their dorm room, Prowl helping Jazz work his way through the assignment that originally hadn't made a lick of sense. Prowl could have been a teacher easy, if he hadn't already been picked out for the tactician's program. The doorwinger claimed he wasn't as good as everyone said he was; Jazz had laughed hysterically at him. They even had him set up for a battle computer being installed.

As Jazz watched Prowl, he couldn't help but think of how proud he was of his friend. Of how much he wanted to make Prowl proud of him.

Other thoughts crossed his mind as well, thoughts he hadn't seriously entertained until recently. It was fun to tease Prowl about being a handsome mech, but Jazz hadn't always been joking about that. He really was attractive, if the little slagger would just let himself see it. Obviously Gears had.

Prowl had fallen into recharge while laying on his stomach on the floor. Jazz chuckled quietly, not quite willing to disturb his friend. He pulled the thermal blanket from Prowl's bed and draped it over him. His fingers trailed gently over Prowl's faceplates, and once again that powerful surge of something shot through him. He laughed soundlessly before grabbing his own thermal blanket and curling up beside Prowl.

He supposed it was inevitable. After all, Prowl meant far too much to him for their relationship not to morph into something other than friendship.

Jazz shuttered his optics and sighed contentedly. Telling Prowl could wait, until the right moment. Jazz wouldn't risk their friendship on anything less that absolute certainty that Prowl felt the same.


	11. First Date

An: References events in ch 7 of Academy Adventures.

**First Date**

_Someone to love with my life in their hands / there's gotta be somebody for me like that_

_Nickelback_

It was odd, Prowl had to admit. Given a choice between which Twin would find a date first, Prowl would have placed safe bets on Sideswipe being the first. Not Sunstreaker – and _definitely _not with Bluestreak. Prowl hadn't realized that Sunstreaker had the patience to put up with Bluestreak's ceaseless babble – Prowl certainly didn't, at least not in anything other than small increments. So as he did his homework in the rec room (for once he was sitting alone – somehow Gears had gotten the hint and Jazz was doing extra work for Sentinel, oddly enough – so he could actually focus on what he was doing) he watched Sunstreaker and Bluestreak out of the corner of his optics.

Very, very strange.

"Hey, Prowl."

_So much for homework._ "Hey, Sideswipe." Prowl scooted over so Sides could have more room at the table. He motioned to Sunny and Blue. "How long has this been going on?"

"Oh, a while now." Sideswipe said easily. "I was wondering how long Bluestreak was gonna make him wait."

"What?"

"Sunny tried to ask him out before we came to the Academy. Blue said no. Guess he finally changed his mind." He leaned back in his seat and smirked. "Poor Sunny. He has no idea what he's getting himself into."

"Don't tell me Ironhide doesn't know." Prowl muttered.

Sides smirked. "He hasn't the foggiest clue."

"Slag. I'm going to wind up short a nephew, aren't I?"

"Probably. Assuming Chromia doesn't talk some sense into him first." Sides's smirk was nothing short of evil. "Oh, I feel so bad for Sunny when he goes to make that move."

"You think they'll bond?" Prowl laughed. "That's still ages away!"

"Yeah, but still – you aren't the one sharing a spark with him." Sides pointed out, grinning happily. Probably imagining the unholy chaos Ironhide was going to cause when he found out his sparkling was being wooed by one of the Twin Terrors. "Sunny won't accept anyone else."

"Must be nice." Prowl mused.

Sides cast him a glance. "Whaddya mean?"

"Having someone who cares that much about you." Prowl said.

Sides snorted. "You haven't looked around, have you?"

"Gears does not count!"

"Wasn't talking about Gears, man." Sides said, his grin fading. "You know what I heard yesterday?"

"What?" By now, Prowl wasn't even fazed by the random topic changes. This was Sideswipe, after all.

"Apparently Huffer thought it would be a good idea to get Jazz out on a one-night stand."

"No, I heard about that." Prowl said mildly. "You guys talked me into going to the club, remember?"

"I remember." Sides said serenely. "I was just wondering if you heard what Jazz said to Huffer right before you showed up."

Prowl gave him an odd look. "No."

"He said he was saving himself for someone else."

That made Prowl pause. He cast Sides a suspicious look. "You're going somewhere with this."

"What? You thought I was just talking to hear myself talk?"

"Your ADD could outdo Jazz's."

"I'm not that bad!" Sides laughed. "Now quit changing the topic and listen to me, okay?" Prowl rolled his optics, but nodded. "You got people who care for you, whether you realize it or not. Jazz, for one."

"Jazz is my friend." Prowl said. "Of course he cares."

Sides sighed. "All right." They turned their focus back to Sunny and Blue. Sunny looked entirely too self-satisfied; Blue was a lovely shade of red. Sides grimaced. "I think we just missed the show."

"I'd rather not watch your brother make out." Prowl said dryly. "Besides, the real show is about to begin." He pointed to the other side of the rec room, where Ironhide was watching the whole thing. Sides followed his gaze, and if possible, turned about as white as Blue was red. Prowl couldn't help but snigger. "Unholy chaos, here we come. Ironhide looks pissed enough to summon the Unmaker."

"Don't joke." Sides muttered. "I like having a Twin."

"I like you having a Twin." Prowl agreed. "Besides, check it out." Chromia had walked up behind Ironhide, which was probably the older mech's entire reason for going into the rec room this time of night. Chromia must have dropped by for a visit. She murmured something to him, and Ironhide went from downright livid to mildly shocked. He glanced back at Chromia and said something, to which she simply laughed and gently led him away. Sides just stared. Prowl laughed.

"Pick your jaw up off the floor."

"Did Ironhide seriously just let Sunny live?"

"Yep."

"It's a fragging miracle."

"What's a fragging miracle?" Jazz slid up between the two. Prowl's face instantly lit in a smile.

"Hey, Jazz. I see Sentinel let you out, finally?"

"Finally." Jazz rolled his optics. "I refuse to fail his class. I hate him enough as it is – no need to take it again."

"But you'll miss the challenge, Jazz." Prowl teased. "How fast can I make it to detention this time?"

"I do not!" Jazz laughed.

The entire time, Sideswipe watched them. There was something distinctly different about the way they interacted, from the way Jazz gently touched Prowl's shoulder to the absolute attention Prowl gave him. He smirked and returned to his reclined position, perfectly content in his world.

Sunny was going to owe him big time once he lost that bet.


	12. Realizations pt 2

**Realization Pt 2**

_Like a gift from the heavens it was easy to tell / it was love from above that could save me from hell_

_Santana ft Nickelback_

The fight wasn't exactly unexpected, and Prowl could have kicked himself for not doing something to stop it. For once, the fight wasn't taking place in the rec room, but rather in the open halls just outside of Ironhide's dojo. Prowl had been on the other side of the campus, working off detention with Sentinel (honestly, the mech had no sense of humor – the other teacher he had pulled that stunt on thought it was _funny_ to watch his holo-forms go dancing across his desk) so he arrived about halfway through the fight.

There was a decent sized crowd cheering the two combatants on. Prowl shoved his way through the group with every intention of just getting _inside_ the rec room when he caught sight of the combatants.

Starscream and Jazz. Or rather, Starscream, the little glitch Soundwave that had started following Starscream around, and Jazz. The smaller mech's visor was gone – Prowl could see the shorn metal where Starscream had ripped it from his face. Two thin trails of energon ran down the sides of Jazz's face from the wounds. Prowl could see the pain quite clearly written in his face.

"Pathetic." Starscream hissed, advancing on the now-blind mech. Jazz backed up a pace, falling into a fighting stance despite the processor-numbing pain he had to be in. Clearly, this fight had been going on for a while yet. Soundwave stepped forward, halting Jazz's backward progress. He twisted to the left, attempting to avoid Starscream's lunge, a little too late. The seeker's fist grazed Jazz's side, making him grunt.

"_Jazz!"_

Starscream barely had time to register the new presence when Prowl came flying at him. He didn't try to land a punch – he simply wasn't strong enough to do serious damage to the seeker – so instead he aimed for leverage. Prowl grabbed his doorwing as Starscream stepped to the side, twisting it back and out of alignment. Starscream shrieked in pain, dropping to his knees. Prowl placed his free hand at the back of Starscream's helm, keeping him from twisting out of the agonizing position easily.

"Let me go, you sadist!"

"Hold still." Prowl bit out. "Unless you want me to rip off your wing." Soundwave started to approach, but by this time Jazz had regained his bearings and turned on the mech, landing two punches on his chassis, driving him backwards.

"Ya stay out of it." he spat.

"Soundwave!" Starscream called out. "Help me!"

Prowl laughed. "Oh, now you call for help?" he sneered. "You're so big and strong – save yourself! I'm not the best, now am I?"

"_Prowl!"_

The crowd scattered quickly. Ironhide stormed up to them, taking in the situation before speaking. Prowl was still holding Starscream down by a doorwing and the scruff of his neck – Jazz was keeping Soundwave at bay by simply scowling at him. Ironhide sighed. "Prowl, let him up." Prowl's optics flickered over to Jazz. "Go ahead. I'll take care of the slagger." Prowl finally nodded and released Starscream, who crumpled to the ground. Prowl ignored him, leaving him to Ironhide's not-so-tender mercies.

He approached Jazz carefully, gently touching his shoulder. "Jazz."

Jazz turned to stare at him. "Ya all right, Prowler?"

Prowl laughed. "I should be asking you that question." he said, reaching up to gently touch Jazz's helm, examining the damage. Jazz held still for him, tolerating the extra attention.

"'M fine. Just need to find mah visor, that's all." he said, but Prowl could see through the lie. He seemed to flinch a little with every slight motion he made.

Sudden hate blazed up in Prowl. Jazz was _his_, and Starscream had dared to hurt him.

"Let's get you in the med bay." he said, gently guiding Jazz away. One of the other students had found Jazz's visor, and handed it over to Prowl. Prowl nodded his thanks and kept walking.

"Hey, yer never gonna guess who's the medic here." Jazz said with a lopsided grin. Prowl couldn't help but chuckle.

"Who?"

"Ratchet."

Prowl blinked. "You're kidding." At Jazz's slag-eating grin, he did laugh. "Well, now I get to harass the slagger for not coming by and visiting." Jazz laughed at that.

Prowl continued to watch him, refusing to leave the med bay while Ratchet fixed him up. He refused to reattach the visor that night – Jazz was in enough pain as it was. Jazz wasn't bothered, but Prowl couldn't help but hope they stayed away from Starscream.

That night, as they settled down for recharge, Jazz simply stared at Prowl for a moment. Prowl tilted his head to the side. "What is it?"

"Can-" he cut himself off, choosing instead to simply motion at Prowl's berth. Prowl didn't hesitate. He simply scooted over and made room for his smaller companion. Relief flashed across Jazz's face, but only briefly as he snuggled in next to Prowl. Prowl tugged the thermal blanket over both of them and cradled Jazz close.

Jazz was his.

Prowl had long considered this true, but now he had to re-evaluate his own thoughts. They were no longer sparklings, where such claims were considered cute. His words had weight behind them now. He continued to watch Jazz recharge, thoughts and emotions swirling in his processor.

His newly installed battle computer was going to crash if he kept this up.

He reached up and touched Jazz's helm, briefly, before settling down and initiating his recharge program.

Jazz was his. There was no denying that.

The real question was – did Jazz want to be his?


	13. Relaxation

**Relaxation**

_Got my hands up / they're playing my song / and now I'm gonna be okay_

_Miley Cyrus_

Jazz loved clubbing, especially after an extremely tense week at the Academy. When things got too stressful, he would go find the one club in the entirety of Iacon that most of the other students avoided. Since students weren't allowed to drink, most didn't even bother coming to a club that served high-grade. What was the point?

Jazz didn't drink, but he came for the music. Music always seemed to calm Jazz, even if it was a piece he didn't particularly care for. He wasn't one for the classics, but dance music seemed to be more his speed. On the other hand, he'd listen to just about anything at least once. Right now, though, the DJ seemed to be intent on playing slow songs that required two mechs to dance. Jazz scowled to himself as he leaned against the wall, just watching.

The Twins were out at one of their own clubs – to each their own. Jazz couldn't see anyone else he recognized – certainly not anyone who would let him get away with just one dance. Jazz had never been one for a one-night stand, and the last thing he wanted was some older mech getting the wrong idea. So he stayed by the wall, feeling extremely out of place.

Now he knew how Prowl felt every time Jazz forced him to be social.

Clubs had always been fun, but tonight something felt off. He felt like he was missing something, like he was supposed to meet someone here and had completely forgotten about the meeting. But Jazz never met anyone at these clubs, especially not with a week like he'd just had. His visor had finally been reattached, but there was still a dull ache that simply refused to go away. He had a hard time understanding why Starscream insisted on harassing him, why he was so intent on causing Jazz harm when Jazz didn't do anything to him. In fact, he had barely seen the mech before they both arrived at the Academy. So why the violence? Jazz had done nothing to him.

Yet.

He was equally confused about Prowl's actions. Prowl of all mechs knew just how bad it hurt to have your doorwings manhandled. Yet Ironhide had mentioned to Ratchet that Prowl had twisted Starscream's wing to the point of dislocating it. Ironhide had expressed confusion about that as well – after all, Prowl was simply not a violent mech – but Ratchet had sniggered and gone back to repairing the damage done to Jazz's visor.

Jazz didn't understand Prowl sometimes.

Another slow song came on, and Jazz groaned and let his head fall back against the wall. This was stupid.

There was a quiet chuckle from his left, and a gentle touch on his shoulder. Jazz twisted to look, shock racing through his circuits as he locked gazes with Prowl. The doorwinger didn't even attempt to speak – after all, the music was too loud even if it was slow – and instead simply motioned towards the floor. Jazz hesitated, then nodded as a slow grin spread across his face. He let Prowl lead him onto the floor, but then he took control, guiding Prowl through the slow dance movements. To his credit, Prowl was a fast study. He didn't seem as uncomfortable as Jazz would have thought, but he made up his mind to harass Prowl about it later.

After all, Jazz wasn't stupid. It hadn't escaped his notice that his headache was gone, that he could finally feel the tension easing from his body in a way dancing alone hadn't managed to accomplish.

He couldn't help his silly grin. Prowl gave him an odd look, but he simply shook his head, letting the dance take over.

Prowl was Jazz's kind of song.

/----/

An: Version 3.0 and it's still slagging short! (sighs) Oh well, I like this better than the other versions I had. By the way, I'm actually doing a bit of planning for this story – shocker, I know – and I have 25 chapters planned out and still going strong. You guys are in for one heck of a trip.


	14. Giving In

**Giving In**

_Just pull me down hard / and drown me in love_

_Matt Nathanson_

Jazz was going to have to kill the Twins. It was a pity too – he liked the Twins, but some things were not to be tolerated, and being locked in a closet was one of those things. No, check that – locked in the closet wasn't that bad, even if it was a small closet. It was who he was locked inside with that had every circuit in Jazz's body feeling like an electric charge was running through him. Embarrassing enough to be locked in a closet with Prowl, of all mechs, but the small space had forced Jazz to practically sit in Prowl's lap. The dark enclosed area was bad enough. The close proximity was driving Jazz _insane_.

He sighed. Prowl glanced down at him, even though he couldn't actually see anything. "Are you all right?" he asked quietly. Jazz shivered. Prowl was being entirely too enticing, and slag it all, he wasn't even doing it on purpose. Prowl couldn't purposefully seduce anyone even if he tried. His processor would crash first.

"Oh, of course." Jazz muttered, taking refuge behind his usual sarcasm. "Being stuck in a slaggin' _broom closet_ is always just so much fun – I'm gonna have to remember to thank Sunstreaker for this."

Prowl chuckled, the sound vibrating in his chassis. "Just don't 'thank him' with your fist." he teased. "Sunny can hit harder than you." He shuttered his optics, trying to ignore Jazz's warm weight in his lap and practically draped across his chassis. Just because he had what had to qualify as the world's biggest crush on Jazz didn't mean he had any right to just snog him senseless because they were trapped in a closet.

Although the thought was _awfully_ tempting. He shook his head, trying to clear his processor. "You might as well get comfortable." he continued, his voice surprisingly level. He sure didn't _feel_ level. "Something tells me we're going to be in here for a while."

Jazz grunted. "Stuck in a slaggin' broom closet." he muttered. "Yes. I am _definitely _gonna have to thank Sunny for this one, the evil little slagger. I swear he's the spawn of Unicron." He shifted, trying to find a more dignified place for himself than practically _sprawled_ out across Prowl.

Prowl immediately went stiff. Okay, so that really hadn't been the best advice to give. "Jazz, stop moving please."

"Hey, ya were the one who said 'get comfy'." Jazz grumbled. "Though jus' how 'comfy' I'm supposed to get in a fragging –" He twisted slightly, one hand brushing against Prowl's doorwing, and cut himself off mid-sentence. His optics widened behind his visor. "Slag," he breathed, "did I hurt ya?"

Prowl took a moment to regain his rapidly fraying control before speaking. "No. You didn't hurt me."

Silence descended on the two. Jazz's hand was still outstretched, fingers barely touching Prowl's doorwing. Prowl could acutely feel the presence, sending shocking impulses across his doorwing. Before he could stop himself, he reached out and gently placed his fingers on Jazz's cheek, sliding his hand to cup the back of Jazz's helm. Jazz leaned forward, meeting him half-way.

The kiss sizzled through them both. A soft sound escaped Jazz, and Prowl had to pull back or get lost. To his credit, Jazz didn't try to push. He was trembling lightly, but Prowl was as well. "Prowler-"

"I love you, Jazz." Prowl cut him off, speaking quickly. "I just wanted you to know that."

He could sense Jazz's smile before the smaller mech leaned in to kiss him again. "I love ya too, Prowler." he whispered, his face an inch from Prowl's. "Don't ya ever doubt it."

There wasn't much Prowl could say to that. He simply kissed Jazz again, this time letting himself get lost in the feel of holding Jazz close. Jazz sighed in contentment as the kiss finally broke and he snuggled against Prowl, smiling to himself as Prowl wrapped his arms around his smaller companion.

He was actually going to have to thank the Twins for this one.

/---/

An: There was actually supposed to be a chapter before this one, but I couldn't figure out how to work it. Oh well, it may show up later.

Oh, and this is the closest I have ever written to smut! Stand back and stare in awe – this is the closest I will ever get. There is one chapter where I may get a smidge closer, but that's a long way off.


	15. Destruction

**Destruction**

_you come along like a blood-stained hurricane_

_Disturbed_

It was early morning when the first of the explosions occurred.

At first, Jazz thought he was imagining things. The sounds were so faint. He sat up on his berth, optics narrowing as he onlined his visor. Prowl was already awake and staring out the window, doorwings rigid. That was more than enough to make Jazz tense as well.

"Prowl? What's going on?" Jazz asked softly.

"Iacon is under attack." Prowl said, backing away from the window. The explosions were getting louder and more frequent. Prowl's optics were pale in shock. "We need to go. They're getting closer."

Jazz was already on his feet. "Where do we go?"

Prowl's hand found Jazz's. "Let's find Ironhide and Ratchet." he decided. "They'll know what to do." He faced Jazz then, and it was only the second time Jazz had seen worry in Prowl's optics. The first had been so long ago, when Prowl and Jazz were just sparklings, when Optimus and Magnus had taken them in. "Stay close to me."

"Like a magnet." Jazz quipped, flashing Prowl a smirk he wasn't particularly feeling. Iacon was under attack? Why Iacon? There was nothing of military importance here. He followed Prowl across the hall to the Twins' dorm room. Prowl banged on the door.

The Twins were quick to answer. "What the pit is going on?" Sunstreaker demanded.

"We're under attack." Jazz said quickly.

"Find Bluestreak and Bumblebee." Prowl instructed. "Meet us at Ironhide's dojo." The Twins nodded and darted off down the hall. Jazz glanced at Prowl.

"Now what?"

"Now we see who else we can find." Prowl said.

Jazz gave him a hard look. "How can you be so calm?"

Prowl glanced over at him. His optics were dangerously pale. "I think I'm in shock." he admitted. It was only then that Jazz noticed that the hand he held was shaking. Jazz squeezed Prowl's hand tightly, and Prowl returned the pressure.

They made their way down the halls, banging on doors and gathering a small group of students. Some had already abandoned their rooms. Jazz suspected Starscream had already been through the dorms, and his suspicions were confirmed when he saw a Decepticon symbol painted sloppily on the outer doors of the dorm rooms. Prowl's noseplates wrinkled in disgust.

"How intimidating." he muttered. Jazz nodded agreement.

The explosions were close enough now that the smell of burning metal was starting to fill the air. The ground shook with each impact, sending some mechs scattering. Others reached out to them, trying to calm them or, failing that, keep them with the group. Tactically, Prowl knew this was a stupid move. They were all conveniently bunched together, making one massive target the Decepticons couldn't help but hit. On the other hand, with a little luck from Primus, they may be able to get out without too much trouble.

Ironhide had been called from the Academy a few days ago and had yet to return, but Ratchet was still in his med bay. He wasn't surprised to find a small group of frightened younglings waiting for him outside of the med bay. The younglings were shocked to see him emerge carrying a plasma rifle. He flashed them a grim smile.

"What? I'm not CMO for my charm."

Jazz laughed. "Got some of that fer us, Ratch?"

"Sorry, kid – Ironhide took the others." Ratchet chuckled. "Stick close to me – we're getting out of here." Prowl was only too happy to let Ratchet take the lead. With an armed Ratchet at the lead, and an equally armed Sentinel taking up the rear, they made their slow way from the deteriorating Academy. Prowl could only sigh with relief when the Twins suddenly appeared at his side, accompanied by a terrified Bluestreak and equally terrified minibots.

A massive explosion erupted from behind them. Sentinel cursed and spun around, opening fire on the group of Decepticons that had managed to close in. "Get the younglings out of here!" he shouted at Ratchet. "I've got these slaggers!"

Ratchet nodded once, herding the younglings forward. They made it out just as the Academy caught fire and burned to the ground. Sentinel appeared beside them, smoke-singed but otherwise undamaged.

Prowl and Jazz watched the Academy burn. The entire time they never let go of each other.

/----/

AN: And that concludes the Academy story arc! Up next – the war itself!


	16. Separation

**Separation**

_I created my own prison_

_Creed_

Prowl stared at his orders numbly. Hot Rod's team? Prowl had heard all about Hot Rod. He was arrogant, cocky, and tolerated no mistakes. From what Prowl understood, Hot Rod's confidence and vanity could outdo Sunstreaker's, and that was saying something. The Twins themselves had been assigned to work with First Aid and Magnus. The others had been similarly assigned. Prowl glanced over at Jazz, who had gone completely stiff. "Who?" he asked quietly.

"Sentinel." Jazz hissed. He glanced at his friend. "Please-"

Prowl shook his head. "Hot Rod."

Jazz's cursing would have done Ratchet proud. For once, Prowl was glad that they had their quarters to themselves. He stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Jazz. "It's going to be okay. You know that, right?"

"What's gonna happen if ya get hurt?!" Jazz demanded, his small frame trembling. "Who's gonna protect ya? I don' trust Hot Rod to do it! He don' know ya!" He buried his face in Prowl's neck, his hands gripping Prowl's arms tightly. "Why's Optimus letting them do this? Why's _Magnus?_ He knows! He knows what ya mean t'me!"

Prowl rested his chin on Jazz's helm. Jazz was more upset now than Prowl had seen him in a long time – he was slurring his words.

"Why, Prowler?"

"I'm going to be fine, Jazz." Prowl assured him quietly. "So are you. Nothing can happen to us."

"Ya don' know that."

"Yes I do." Prowl pulled back from the embrace and kissed Jazz's forehead. "I know nothing is going to happen to us. We've survived 18 months of basic training. We've hung on to each other this long, and we're too slagging stubborn to give up now. You know that, Jazzy."

Jazz didn't speak. Instead he leaned up and kissed Prowl soundly. There was a slight sound of surprise from the doorwinger – after all, they didn't normally advertise their affection so openly, and anyone could walk in on them – but he didn't pull away. Jazz was grateful. For once, he needed this kiss, this moment to reassure himself that Prowl was right. Nothing was going to happen to them. He reached up and traced his fingers down the back of Prowl's neck, eliciting a small moan. Finally, he pulled away. Prowl's optics were dim, and Jazz couldn't help but smile slightly.

"We'll find each other again." he whispered.

Prowl nodded, pulling Jazz close. "We will. We always have before."

How long they stood there in each other's arms, they didn't know. Neither of them knew that their privacy was assured by a certain security protégé who had once worked with Jazz in the Academy long ago.

Red Alert smiled to himself. He was going to have to have a word with his new commanding officer as soon as he got the chance – got himself established as a respectable member of the team. Surely Optimus Prime would see the advantage to having a talented tactician and the best saboteur in the Academy on his team.

/-----/

AN: Another shameless plug (well, actually two) – I'm writing a spinoff series to this one called Outtakes. Any one-shots that never make it in here will be put into there, in no particular order, but I'll tell you where it fits in here.

And, Curse and I are working on a rewrite of the 07 movie called (ironically enough) TF Remix 07. Yes, I know OCs generally suck, but this wasn't supposed to be taken seriously. We just can't stand Sam and Mikaela, so we made up our own characters. There will not be human/TF pairings, just good old-fashioned friendships. So could you give it some love? It's under the penname Cursed Shadowblade of Doom. That's what happens when we couldn't find a decent combination of our pennames.


	17. Defiance

**Defiance**

_And oh I scream for you / come please, I'm falling_

_Nickelback_

Prowl should never have been chosen for this mission. He knew it had been a bad idea to begin with. For one thing, Hot Rod didn't have a decent saboteur on his team. The closest thing he had was a young Arielbot called Fireflight, and Fireflight couldn't fly a straight line if he wanted to. For another, Prowl sucked at sabotage missions. Doorwingers couldn't sneak to save their lives – everyone knew that. Yet, Hot Rod had chosen Prowl to go.

It explained why Prowl was currently chained and gagged in the Decepticon brig. His only consolation was that he was too low ranked to know anything useful. Soundwave knew it, the little slagger. Sometimes Prowl wondered if the continued torture sessions weren't Soundwave's way of getting his kicks. Sadist. He didn't know anything. It didn't matter how deep Soundwave dug with his telepathic powers – the only thing he would accomplish was making Prowl scream in pain.

There was the vague thought that Hot Rod might send a rescue mission for him, but it had already been two weeks. Hot Rod did not tolerate mistakes, and Prowl had made a mistake in allowing himself to be captured.

The door slid open to Prowl's cell, and Soundwave walked in. The young soldier could do nothing but prepare himself for the pain.

/----/

Jazz had been mildly surprised when Sentinel had sent him on a sabotage mission. Admittedly, he was supposed to be a saboteur, that was what he did, but Sentinel had taken a liking to just sticking him behind a desk or using him to train other recruits. This time, however, Jazz was in his element. This was where he belonged.

He was crawling through the vents above the 'Con brig when he heard it. A muted cry caught his attention, and he glanced down through the grate. If it had been possible, his spark would have stopped pulsing.

Sentinel had given him his mission goals, and also a warning – to not abandon the mission no matter what he found. Jazz had thought it odd at the time. After all, no matter how badly he hated Sentinel, he was not about to jeopardize his comrades by screwing up without a good reason. Sentinel knew that. It had been proven over and over again.

Now Jazz understood.

Prowl cried out again as the unknown 'Con rained punches on his chassis, smirking the entire time. Jazz slowly raised his plasma rifle, taking careful aim through the vents. One shot between the optics, and the unknown mech fell to the ground dead. Jazz worked quickly to undo the latches on the vent. All thoughts of the mission had fled from his mind. He knew Hot Rod's team had been given the same mission three weeks ago and had failed. Jazz had never suspected this, had never wanted to entertain the thought.

He dropped down into the brig and gently touched Prowl's shoulder. The doorwinger looked up at him, one optic on half-power, the other gone. Jazz's intakes hitched at how much physical damage had been done. It would take a deeper scan to know if Soundwave had done anything permanent to Prowl's processor. He had to pause a moment before he could speak. "Hey, Prowler, it's me." he said soothingly, reaching up to undo the bands around Prowl's wrists and ankles.

Prowl shuddered. "Jazz?" His voice was barely above a whisper. "What – they'll catch you."

"Not a chance." Jazz scoffed, making sure to keep his voice low. "'m here ta get ya out. Can't leave 'til I finish mah mission, right?" Prowl slumped forward as his restraints were removed, and Jazz caught him easily. It disturbed him just how light Prowl was. That wasn't right. "Think ya can walk?"

Prowl hesitated, testing his balance. "I can try." he said finally.

"Good, Prowler." Jazz said encouragingly. "Let's get ya home."

/-----/

Jazz would have much preferred to have Ratchet working on Prowl, but First Aid would have to do. The young medic had barely been a year in the Academy before it had been destroyed, and he had been training under Ratchet until now. Jazz stood outside of the med bay, waiting anxiously. Sentinel and Hot Rod stood in front of him, listening as he debriefed them on his mission.

"So basically you abandoned the mission in favor of saving the doorwinger?" Hot Rod said. Jazz nodded, refusing to speak. Hot Rod frowned. "Noble, if a bit misguided. More lives could have been saved if you had stuck to the original mission."

"You wouldn't want to make the same mistake twice." Sentinel added blandly.

Jazz scowled at him. "With all due respect, sir," he said stiffly, "I hope I'm never in a position where I can casually throw away the life o' my closes' friend." The last word came out a bit choked. Prowl was so much more than a friend.

Hot Rod nodded. "Standards. I like that. In that case, a job well done."

Jazz should have kept his mouth shut, but he didn't. "Sir – they had him fer three weeks."

"I know."

"Ya didn't send anyone after him?"

Hot Rod hesitated. "We all have to follow orders, Jazz." he said quietly. "I lead a small group. There was no one qualified to get in and get him out."

And suddenly Jazz understood. "Thank ya, sir." Hot Rod nodded and walked away. Sentinel scowled at Jazz.

"Next time I send you on a mission, I expect you to complete it." he snarled.

Jazz glared right back. "Next time ya leave Prowl ta die, I'll kill ya myself." he hissed. He turned on his heel and stalked back into the med bay. He forced himself to smile at First Aid. "How's he doin'?"

"Remarkably well, all things considered." First Aid replied. "He'll still be out for a while. You can stay in here if you like. I need to go get a few things for the repairs for his optics, and I imagine he'll need someone to be with him when he wakes up."

Jazz nodded and sat down next to Prowl. "Thanks, man."

"Just doing my job." First Aid walked away.

Jazz couldn't help himself. He laughed humorlessly even as he gently stroked Prowl's chevron. "Ah, Prowler – what kinda world is it when jus' doin' our jobs means leavin' others ta die?"


	18. Doubt

**Doubt**

_I feel good enough for you_

_Evanescence_

Things had smoothed over rather nicely, in Jazz's humble opinion. The base on Kalis had been taken over by Optimus Prime's team, and he had requested two other teams to help defend it against the Decepticons. To Jazz, it seemed a Primus-granted miracle that Sentinel and Hot Rod had been picked for the job. It meant an infinite amount of time to be spent in Prowl's company, working with him on a variety of projects. For once, Jazz didn't mind being stuck behind a desk most of the time. Prowl rarely saw the battlefield, and it had been a good fifty years since the last time Jazz had even seen Prowl, much less spoke to him.

Jazz was getting his energon ration from the rec room when he heard it. Bluestreak had been a member of Prime's team, and Prowl had mentioned Smokescreen had been recently assigned to Hot Rod's team. Fresh blood, so to speak, but Jazz hadn't gotten the chance to meet the new mech. He was sticking close to Bluestreak.

"You have got to be kidding me, Smokey." Blue was saying with a laugh. "He's so far taken it's not even funny."

Smokescreen simply smiled. "Come on, Blue. Admit it – if you weren't spoken for, you'd go after him as well." He nudged Blue as they sat down at one of the tables. Obviously on break. Hot Rod would never allow anything but.

Bluestreak rolled his optics. "Please. I know _he's_ spoken for – that's all that matters."

"He won't be if I have my way about it." Smokescreen said cheerfully. Blue edged his chair away from Smokey.

"Jazz will kill you." Blue said flatly. "End of story. You'd be dead, and Prowl would _still_ be Jazz's." Jazz almost laughed at that, but he kept silent. No need to let Smokey know he'd been overheard until later. When Jazz could make absolutely certain that Smokey would get the hint and back off.

Smokescreen scoffed. "Please. What does Jazz have in common with Prowl anyway? Jazz is way too flighty – he flirts with practically every mech he sees. Prowl needs someone who can provide him with more stability." He nodded to himself. "I can do that. Besides, I'm a fellow tactician. We have much more in common."

Bluestreak glanced over Smokescreen's head, noticed Jazz standing stock-still by the energon dispenser, and if possible, paled. "Smokey – please, for the love of all things holy, don't try and make a move on Prowl." he pleaded. "I rather like having you around. You amuse me when you aren't being suicidal."

"How is pursuing a serious relationship with someone suicidal?"

"When that someone is attached to _Jazz,_ that's suicidal!" Blue protested. "Besides, Prowl would never go for it. Those two have been friends for longer than I've known them, and that's saying something."

"Blue, I love you to death, but this time you're wrong." Smokescreen stood up. "I think I'll go pay Prowl a visit right now. Jazz isn't with him."

Jazz gritted his dermal plates, but still didn't move. He waited until Smokescreen was gone before approaching Blue. Blue looked almost panicked. "I'm sorry he just didn't listen to me and now he's gonna go and frag off Prowl and-"

"Chill, Blue." Jazz said, sounding oddly calm. "Ya don't got to worry about it. I'm gonna take care of it, kay?"

"Okay." Blue said uncertainly. "Please don't kill Smokey."

"I won' kill 'im." Jazz muttered, turning and stalking after Smokescreen. "String 'im up by 'is doorwings, maybe, but not kill 'im." He could hear Blue chuckle nervously, not quite sure whether or not to believe Jazz, right before he left the rec room. Time to go find Prowl, hopefully before Smokescreen found him.

Unfortunately, luck wasn't with him on this day. Jazz found the meeting room doors right as Smokescreen waltzed in like he belonged there. A slight smirk found its way to Jazz's lips. If Prowl was in the meeting room this late at night, he was working on something important. He would not appreciate being interrupted, even if it was by Smokescreen. Pit, he would hate it if _Jazz _interrupted him. Not that that stopped Jazz, but still!

Jazz hovered just outside the door, watching them. He wanted to see exactly where this was going to go. He didn't doubt his relationship with Prowl, not in the least, but it would be nice to have it reaffirmed from the mech himself.

Smokescreen walked over and seated himself next to Prowl. "Hey, Prowl."

Prowl didn't even look up. "I'm working, Smokescreen."

"I can see that." Smokey said with a grin. Prowl cast him a look that clearly said, 'then why are you bothering me?', and Jazz had to cover his mouth to hide a snicker. Smokescreen continued on. "I wanted to talk to you before recharge, and I knew I wouldn't catch you after you were done here. I hope you don't mind."

"I do." came the blunt reply. "What do you want?"

"I was wondering if you would join me for energon tomorrow morning."

That stopped Prowl cold. Many would say that Prowl just wasn't good at reading mechs, but apparently some of Jazz's knack for it was wearing off on him. Slowly, he looked up from his datapad to Smokescreen, clearly shocked. "You mean like a date."

Smokescreen smiled, pleased that Prowl had understood. "I'd like the chance to get to know you better."

"You obviously don't know me well enough." Prowl bit out. "I'm spoken for."

"By who? That saboteur, Jazz?" Smokescreen made a dismissive wave of his hand. "He's not a good match for you, Prowl, you know that. He's a party mech, and everyone knows he can't hold a steady relationship. He goes to those parties of his with a different date each time. Besides, you need some amount of stability, especially with the way the war seems to be going."

By this time, Prowl was leaning back in his chair and staring at Smokey like he'd grown a second head. "Smokescreen, as much as I appreciate you looking out for my emotional well-being, you are seriously misinformed." he said flatly.

"How so?" Smokescreen challenged.

"Implying that not only is Jazz not 'my type', I believe is the phrase, but that he's an easy lay?" Prowl's tone had darkened, and now Smokey was starting to rethink his strategy. "Jazz is far more loyal than most mechs on this base, Smokescreen."

"We've only been working with him for a few months now." Smokescreen said, although there was a hint of doubt in his voice. "Besides, I've seen him hanging out with Flight far more than is reasonable."

Prowl sighed. "Yes, and Flight has the mentality of a child." he pointed out. "He's a good mech, but the most he can relate to anybody is as a little brother. You of all mechs should know that." He stood up. "Jazz is everything I could ask for. If anyone else expresses a problem with it, pass along this message – shove it up your afterburner." He turned his back on Smokescreen, who was looking more than a little embarrassed.

A small smile touched Prowl's lips. "You can come out now, you know."

Jazz entered the meeting room with a broad grin. "Aw, Prowler, I didn' know ya cared so much!" He draped his arm around Prowl's shoulders and shot Smokey a wicked smirk. "I'm touched."

Prowl rolled his optics, but slid his arm around Jazz's waist. "How long have I put up with you?" he teased. "I should hope I care." Jazz glanced at his hands for a moment before smiling.

"I don' got enough fingers!"

Prowl just laughed. Smokescreen stood there and watched them leave, uncertainty written all over his face.

Logically, they were completely wrong for each other. Prowl's logic center was touchier than Smokescreen's – the result of a defective battle computer. There shouldn't be a way that Prowl could override his own need for logic and stay with Jazz for so long.

Smokescreen shook his head. In either case, that was a bust. He would be wise not to try again.

If Jazz didn't get him for it, Prowl would.


	19. Transfer

**Transfer**

_We are one / you and I / we are like the earth and sky_

_Lion King 2_

Optimus smiled at Red Alert as the security director entered his office. "What can I do for you, Red Alert?" he asked warmly. Red Alert was a rather young mech, about the age of Prowl, actually, and a genius at his work. The others considered him unduly paranoid, but Prime found his work impeccable. It had earned him both the office of security director and the respect of his crew, even if they didn't always agree with him.

Red Alert took a seat across from Prime. "I happened to be looking at our staff list the other day, and I noticed we were down two positions." he said candidly. Prime made a face.

"A tactician and a saboteur, to be exact." he admitted. "Air Raid transferred out, not that he was any good, and Bumblebee just doesn't have it in him to be a leader. Primus, he's barely trained as a spy himself." He leaned back in his seat, staring up at the ceiling. "Things never change in the army. You never get the mechs you need until you no longer need them."

Red Alert nodded. "Might I suggest two mechs who you would benefit from?"

Prime looked at him. "You have two in mind?"

"Prowl and Jazz."

Prime hesitated. "Prowl and Jazz are already part of teams." he reminded Red Alert.

Red Alert snorted in disgust. "Yes. Prowl has been reassigned to a completely different team now and we all know just how much Sentinel despises Jazz. Neither of them are being given the opportunity to fully use their talents. The security of our base would increase exponentially with those two helping us." The last was an added thought. Red Alert had never actually considered how Prowl and Jazz's presence would affect the security of the mechs on Optimus's team.

Optimus seemed to know it too. "There wouldn't happen to be an ulterior motive to this, would there?"

Red Alert shrugged. "All right, so I happened to be walking by Prowl's quarters the other night when he got his new assignment and overheard a few words I probably shouldn't have." he admitted. "Optimus, Jazz and Prowl work best when they work together. It isn't right keeping them apart like this."

For a moment, Optimus didn't speak. "What – what did you overhear?" he asked quietly, hesitantly.

"Prowl was less than pleased with his new assignment." Red Alert said softly. "He and Jazz were discussing the situation. I believe they got used to being assigned to Kalis together." He didn't tell Prime the rest of what he heard – it would have violated their privacy. He wouldn't breathe a word of how Prowl had cursed the Autobot cause for forcing them to separate once again while Jazz simply held on to his love and cried. He would never tell how he had vowed, then and there, to find a way to keep those two together. He knew what it was like to be separated from his bondmate. Inferno had been assigned to another group for six months now, and some days it felt like six years. If there could be a way to keep Prowl and Jazz from suffering the same, he would do it. He met Prime's gaze steadily. "We need them, Prime. And they need to be together."

Slowly, finally, Prime nodded. "They'd find a way, regardless." he muttered under his breath, not meaning for Red Alert to overhear.

Red Alert simply smirked. "Of that I have no doubt." he said. He stood to leave, but hesitated at the door. "And Optimus?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you."

Optimus smiled. "Anytime, Red Alert." As Red Alert opened the door, he added in an off-handed way, "Oh – Inferno is coming back today. His shuttle should have arrived by now." He looked up in time to see Red Alert's optics widen before he took off down the hall with a happy yell.

Prime laughed. It was always nice to make his officers' days.

/----/

AN: Yes, it's short. I'm sorry. It screamed shortness, curse it.


	20. Stolen

AN: Whoo! An update! As a bonus for being loyal readers, if you can pick out the TV show reference in here (the reference and the TV show it came from, please) then I will write a chapter/separate one-shot for this story with a song of your chosing.

**Stolen**

_This is it / and it fits / and it feels like this is good enough for me_

_Staind_

For once, Prowl was happy with the way life treated him. Being tactical officer for Prime's team was rewarding, not to mention challenging. There was always something new – data that he didn't have last time (and they actually had a proper intelligence officer, too), new mechs to work with, different opinions to take into consideration. Prowl loved every minute of it.

Of course, a lot of it had to do with the fact that Jazz was stationed with the same team he was.

The resident saboteur seemed to be enjoying his lot as well. Prowl knew exactly how much Jazz hated desk work, and apparently Prime remembered it as well. Jazz was actually given missions and his own team to work with. The 'spybots', as Jazz had affectionately termed them, took to Jazz as a leader almost immediately. He was good at what he did, and they respected that. It warmed Prowl, knowing that Jazz had a fully functional team that appreciated his efforts.

There were other things as well. Prowl enjoyed the easy access he had to Jazz's quarters. After particularly harrowing missions, ones where either Prowl or Jazz came back slagged to the pit (and wasn't it just wonderful that Ratchet was Prime's CMO?), they would spend an innocent night in each other's arms. It was reassuring, a way to stave off nightmares that otherwise would become paralyzing. Such things were unfortunately not uncommon.

Being a tactician kept Prowl busy, and Jazz's job kept him out of the Ark more often than not. Still, Prowl lived for those moments in between missions and meetings. Moments where Prowl would lean against the wall, thoroughly exhausted, and suddenly Jazz was there leaning against him, an arm wrapped around his waist. Moments were Jazz would fall asleep in his office after a long day of necessary paperwork only to wake to Prowl carrying him back to his quarters.

These were the moments Prowl lived for.

There were others as well. Prowl wasn't completely friendless – Jazz had the spybots, Prowl had what Jazz called the 'squints', the scientists, security officer, and intelligence officers that gave Prowl all the information he needed to create battle plans to keep the mechs he had come to care for alive.

Still, Prowl thought as he held Jazz close to him late one night, nothing could compare to the simple knowledge that Jazz was _here_, with him and on the same team. There was no longer a threat of separation, not from the higher-ups, because Prime would not sacrifice his only tactician and the leader of his spybots.

Prowl would have to thank him for that.

/-----/

An: Whew! You know, when my TF muse finally started cooperating with me again, I thought she'd give me a longer chapter than this. Oh well.


	21. Devotion

**Devotion**

_Show me the path to find my way / and give me a reason to pray!_

_Godsmack_

Very few mechs knew that Jazz was devoutly religious. He certainly didn't go out of his way to show it, and nobody really asked him about it. During the war, it seemed to be the last thing on any mech's mind. Jazz never did understand that.

Perhaps it was fitting that Prowl was the only mech who fully understood Jazz's beliefs. After all, Prowl was the only mech Jazz prayed for. Prowl was Jazz's reason for believing.

Only he and Prowl knew the truth about their previous creators. Jazz could faintly remember a time when he could see without the aid of his visor, before a fit of anger and a flash of agony stole that from him and left him in Iacon in the middle of a Cybertronian acid rain storm. He could barely remember that singular event, and it didn't take a genius to figure out what it meant.

He remembered what happened after that as if it had only occurred yesterday instead of a thousand years ago. Small hands grabbing his shoulders and dragging him to safety, even as the acid pelted his delicate doorwings. He remembered a sparkling's voice, even younger than him, speaking in clicks and beeps. He remembered those small hands feeling him over, determining the extent of his injuries. And Jazz responded in kind.

Prowl had saved him that day, the day that everything had changed. It took years for Jazz to fully comprehend the events of his life and come to a logical conclusion – or rather, logical for him, at any rate. Prowl would probably beg to differ.

Apparently Primus wanted him to live, because he gave him a reason to live. No matter how rough the battles or how many spybots he lost, the idea of giving up never crossed his processor. He couldn't give up. Prowl needed him as much as he needed Prowl.

Primus had given Prowl to Jazz to keep him sane, to keep him _alive._ The least Jazz could do in return was pray for Prowl's safety.

So when Ratchet called him into the med bay because a battle had gone horrifyingly wrong and Prowl was in critical condition, Jazz wasn't as worried as he should have been. He simply stood by Prowl's berth, watching the monitors with half-powered optics and holding Prowl's hand while he prayed.

Primus wanted Jazz to live. Jazz had to believe that. That meant Prowl had to live as well.

/---/

AN: Okay, so I'm not entirely pleased with this one. For one, it's slagging short again. For another, it sounds way too angsty for Jazz. Oh well. I guess a mech in his position is entitled to his angst. Was this over the top? Let me know what you think.


	22. Promotion

AN: Dang, you guys are epic! (laughs) Okay, so the last chapter didn't suck. I'll admit defeat to that one. In gratitude, here's the next one for you.

**Promotion**

_This is the world we live in / and these are the names we're given_

_Disturbed_

Prowl and Jazz stood just outside the med bay doors, waiting for Optimus to finish with his conference with Ratchet. Jazz glanced over at Prowl, arms crossed over his chassis and back pressed against the wall. "So, whaddya think the boss-bot wants with us?" he asked, trying to keep his tone casual. "I mean, we've already turned in our reports."

"I know." Prowl said quietly. "Prime's second and third in commands were injured in the battle. We may be required to substitute for them until Ratchet deems them functional."

Jazz snorted. "C'mon, Prowler – it's just us. Ya can drop the tactician speak now."

A small smile quirked Prowl's lips. "Sorry. I'm a bit nervous right now."

"I c'n see that." Jazz motioned him over, and Prowl willingly came to stand beside him. Jazz reached out and wrapped his arms around Prowl's waist, pulling him flush against his chassis. "Much better."

"Jazz!" Prowl laughed. "You know, if you were looking for an excuse to cop a feel –"

"I don' need an excuse fer that."

Before Prowl could retort, Optimus exited the med bay, head down. Jazz and Prowl exchanged alarmed looks before Jazz let go of Prowl and both approached the Autobot leader. Prowl reached out and touched Prime's shoulder. "Optimus?"

"They're dead." Prime said quietly. "Direct hits with Starscream's null rays." He looked up at Jazz and Prowl, his optics dull. Prowl's free hand clenched into a fist. Jazz stood back a bit, slightly unsure what to do. He was used to boosting the moral of his spybots. Prowl was used to dealing with his squints. Neither could quite find the words to comfort their leader.

Optimus took a deep breath and continued. "Now I have to chose replacements for them, despite the fact that they only just died." He shook his head. "I hate politics."

Jazz nodded in sympathy. "Do ya want us ta give recommendations?" he asked.

Optimus shook his head. "Actually, I was wondering something else." He gave them both serious looks. Prowl automatically tensed, knowing what was coming. Jazz just gave him a curious look. "Would you do me the honor of becoming my new second and third?"

Jazz almost choked. "Say what?"

"You heard me. I know you guys have enough to do with your respective offices, but I can think of no other I would rather have by my side." Optimus looked at both of them, optics silently hoping. "Please."

Prowl and Jazz looked to each other once again. Prime had the distinct impression they were communicating with each other, probably over a private comm. line. He didn't believe the rumors that Jazz and Prowl were bonded. It was improper for two officers to be involved as it was. Prowl was never one to break decorum.

More importantly, he'd hate to think his son went and got bonded without telling him.

Prowl and Jazz spoke to each other in quick databursts, running over all the possible pros and cons of the situation. Both were well aware of the dangers of accepting such a high-ranking office. They would be walking around with massive metaphorical bulls-eyes painted on their backs. The 'Cons would want nothing more than to destroy them both.

Prowl had a strong sense of duty. Jazz had sharp survival instincts. They debated between themselves for a few more minutes before finally coming to a conclusion – one that Jazz later admitted was probably inevitable, considering the amount of respect they had among the troops.

Finally, Jazz simply shrugged. "We'll get the chance to take out that glitch once and fer all." he told Prowl. "Ya know he'll come after us as soon as the 'Cons figure it out."

Prowl nodded, an odd glint in his optics. "Very true. That would be worth the processor aches right there." Jazz chuckled.

Optimus hesitated a moment. "Is there something going on I'm not aware of?" he asked.

"Ya didn't know? I thought everyone knew Prowl and Screamer hated each other's diodes." Jazz cackled.

"For slagging good reason, too." Prowl muttered. "And now I can add a few more reasons to the list."

Optimus considered, watching the way Prowl glanced at Jazz before turning his focus completely to Prime. He smiled to himself. "So will you accept?" he asked.

Prowl nodded, Jazz standing beside him. "Yes, Prime. We'll accept."


	23. Agony

**Agony**

_Scream until there's silence / scream while there's life left!_

_Avenged Sevenfold_

Jazz's cries tore at his spark. He could no longer see the damage being done – Shockwave had destroyed his optics early on in the interrogation. He could still hear the grating shriek of torn metal as Shockwave tortured Jazz, could still hear Jazz's quiet whimpers of agony that he couldn't hold back.

How could they have been so foolish?

His only consolation was that Megatron was not aware of Shockwave's new prisoners. Prowl feared what would be done to them if that happened. The SIC had seen mechs come back as little more than mindless shells after a session with Megatron.

Jazz screamed again.

"He doesn't know anything."

Prowl's voice was raspy, but it did the trick. Shockwave stopped whatever he was doing to Jazz (_thank you Primus)_ and approached Prowl. "Oh? And I assume you do?"

"Yes."

Claws cupped Prowl's chin, forcing him to look up despite his blindness. "Then tell me."

What Prowl was about to do was neither tactical nor logical, but he was going to do it and to hell with the consequences. A feral smirk twisted his lips.

"Make. Me."

Shockwave snarled. Then it was Prowl's turn to scream as sharp claws pierced his chest armor and _pulled_.

Jazz watched in horror as Shockwave proceeded to slowly tear Prowl to pieces. Prowl went limp against his chains as Shockwave ripped off a sizable chunk of his chassis. Jazz's visor flickered, but he refused to let it shut off.

Shockwave attacked Prowl again, and Jazz _screamed_ when Prowl didn't react.

"PROWL! No no no no – Prowl! Prowl!"

There was nothing he could do but watch. Prowl did this for Jazz, to protect him. The least he could do was witness it.


	24. Bonded

AN: A little bit of sugar to help you recover from the massive amount of aft-whooping in the last one.

**Bonded**

_It's so easy to find / if you could remind me_

_.Hack//Sign_

Jazz was released from the med bay seventeen days before Prowl. Seventeen days of barely leaving Prowl's side, of praying harder than he ever had before. Prowl could not die. It was not allowed. On day fifteen Ratchet finally kicked Jazz out and refused to let him back in, which lead to Jazz sulking outside of the med bay.

He owed Ironhide's team for rescuing them, he'd admit that much. But he wanted to know how Prowl was doing. It was driving him slagging nuts.

Day sixteen had Jazz giving his report in Optimus's office. "Prime, with all due respect, I'd rather be with Prowl right now." he had said tightly. That was one conversation he wouldn't forget any time soon.

"Jazz, right now you are of no use to anyone." Optimus had said quietly. "In all honesty, you're acting like a bonded mech." There had been a tight pause there, as Jazz absorbed the subtle implications behind that exasperated statement. He had glared at Optimus then.

"You wouldn't approve?"

"I cannot afford to lose you both."

It had been the absolute worst thing to say, and Optimus knew it at the exact same moment Jazz did. In hindsight, Jazz knew what the problem was. Optimus was as worried and scared as Jazz was, and it was making them both lash out. Luckily, Jazz had simply turned and stalked away. Not only because he was pissed – which he was – but also because something Optimus had said had gotten him to thinking.

In Prowl's words, you could almost smell the smoke.

So with certain thoughts on his processor, and two weeks after Prowl had finally, _finally_ been released from the med bay, Jazz found himself outside of Prowl's quarters late at night. Jazz shivered as he keyed in Prowl's access code. The last time he had stood out here had been when Prowl was released from the med bay, absolutely exhausted and still looking rather worse for wear. Now the door opened and Jazz walked in, letting it slide shut behind him.

He wasn't surprised to see Prowl still awake, sitting up on his berth, watching the door. Jazz smiled softly at him. "Hey."

"Hey." Prowl didn't ask why he was there. He didn't say a word about how late it was, or the inappropriateness of being in his quarters so late at night. Prowl had always had a unique way of being able to read Jazz's intentions before Jazz even knew them himself.

So no words were immediately spoken. Prowl merely reached out to him, and Jazz took refuge in his arms. He pushed himself close to his longtime friend, his fingers trailing gently over Prowl's chassis. He could still feel the weld scars Ratchet had left during his repairs. Jazz shivered. "You shouldn't have done that." he murmured quietly.

Prowl pulled him closer. "I've dealt with that before, and you saved me then." he whispered. "The least I could do was return the favor."

Jazz felt it then. The tightness in his spark seemed to have reached its breaking point. As inappropriate as it was, he _wanted_ it. He knew Prowl wanted it. So he did what he did best.

He acted.

Prowl was only mildly surprised when Jazz shoved him back onto his berth, leaning against him and capturing him in a fierce, almost desperate kiss. Prowl gasped as Jazz's hands moved from his chassis to his doorwings, the delicate touches the only catalyst Prowl needed to return the passion tenfold. He knew where this was going – he knew it wasn't exactly smart, either. After all, two officers, especially the SIC and TIC, bonding together would just make the Decepticons' job that much easier.

He didn't care. He had put off this need long enough. Still –

"Jazz." Somehow he managed to make his voice sound steady despite the chaos of emotions that flowed within him. Jazz pulled back slightly, clearly on the verge of losing all control. His visor was retracted, a mark of the trust he placed in Prowl, and he waited calmly for Prowl to continue.

"I prayed for you, too."

Jazz's smile then could have lit Iacon.

/----/

An: In case you can't read between the lines, this is _the_ chapter. They are now officially bondmates. A bit sappier than what I usually write, but right now I could use a good dose of sap. Drop me a line, and let me know what you think of the sugar!


	25. Daydreams

**Daydreams**

_I'm having daydreams about night things in the middle of the afternoon_

_Ronnie Milsap_

Jazz usually had trouble concentrating. No one found this unusual – least of all the Twins. The Twins – who had been assigned to their base not too long ago – were used to Jazz's ADD from the Academy. Sunstreaker was happy for the chance to work comm.s duty with Jazz and Sideswipe, even if Sides did have to poke Jazz every now and again to get him working properly instead of daydreaming.

After the third time this happened, Sunstreaker finally said something. "Dude, what's got you so distracted?" he demanded, a slight smirk on his face. "You're acting like you're lovestruck or something."

Jazz's visor brightened considerably. "Well, actually – "

"You are!" Sideswipe said happily. "Well, come on, spill! Who's the lucky mech?"

Jazz hesitated a moment before turning his attention back to the comm.s unit. "Prowler."

Sunstreaker blinked. "Seriously? You and Prowl finally stopped dancing and just admitted that you like each other? Sweet."

Jazz grinned at him. "Actually, we admitted that back in the Academy." he said smugly. "We're bonded now."

Dead silence filled the room. Suddenly Sideswipe started sniggering. "That explains why you're so distracted." he teased. "Prowl's out there on patrol, you're in here stuck on the comm.s, and it's driving you crazy." He patted Jazz's shoulder. "Don't worry about it. Happens to all of us."

Jazz scowled at Sideswipe. "'m actually keepin' tabs on 'im, if it's any of yer business." he muttered. "He's on a solo mission and I ain't allowed ta contact him ta make sure he's okay. That's what's drivin' me nuts."

Sunstreaker smiled sympathetically. "Prime doesn't know you're bonded, does he?"

"No." Jazz said shortly. "He made it clear he wouldn't approve."

"Since when has that ever stopped you?" Sideswipe wondered.

Jazz flashed him a smirk. "Obviously, it didn't."

Suddenly Jazz's comm. link buzzed. ::Jazz, Bluestreak is coming to replace you on comm.s duty.:: Prime said. ::Prowl has returned from his mission. He's rather anxious to see you.::

Jazz brightened considerably. ::Thanks, boss-bot!::

::Don't thank me. Prowl said he would meet you in the rec room.::

Jazz grinned at that. If he had his way, he and Prowl wouldn't _stay_ in the rec room for long. Prowl had been gone an entire week with nothing more than faint images and feelings coming through their bond to keep Jazz company. Jazz had every intention of making sure Prowl was fine, with his own optics. ::Roger that. I'll leave as soon as Bluestreak gets here.::

::Copy. Oh, and Jazz – at least wait until tonight before you molest Prowl. You both still have duty shifts.:: There was a note of amusement in his voice, and an even fainter tone of approval, and Jazz couldn't help the happy smile that spread across his face because of it.

::Ya take away all mah fun.:: Jazz teased.

Prime laughed. ::Fun. Right. I remember what it's like to be newly bonded.::

Jazz smiled. He felt Prowl brush against his spark, letting him know he was waiting in the rec room. ::Ya got it, boss-bot. Over and out.::

/----/

AN: Okay, so I'm not too thrilled with this one. This was the only idea that I could think of without making turn out too darn smutty. Eh, enjoy the crap chapter. The next one ought to be longer and definitely better.


	26. Mission

AN: I'm really sorry for the long update time! This chapter hates me, ugh! Between that and trying to make my way around the University (yeah, I'm at an honest college now, yay) I haven't had much time for anything except for Lacrymosa.

Oh, and for the sake of my sanity – assume that the war was never fought for the AllSpark. Assume that the AllSpark so far has been a source of myth, until Megatron discovered it.

We have now entered the Movie-verse portion of this story.

**Mission**

_Another mission / the powers have called me away_

_Disturbed_

Prowl stared hard at Jazz. "It exists?"

Jazz nodded, pacing a bit as he felt Prowl's gaze bore into him. Prowl was behind his desk, paperwork completely forgotten for the moment, which was a real feat lately. "Yeah, it exists. Or at least, Megatron thinks it does, and that's 'nough fer Prime ta go off after him." He shook his head. "He's only takin' a small group with him. We don' know where this'll lead us."

Prowl scowled. "You said we."

Jazz almost flinched. Slag it. "Yeah – um, Prime assigned meh ta his team. He wants meh ta go with him ta – "

"Who else?"

Well, at least it wasn't outright denial. "Ironhide, Ratchet, and Bumblebee. Bee's gonna be the first ta go, since he's the best at espionage." Jazz ticked off quickly. "So, I'll be looked after, ya know? I'll even be with one o' mah spybots, an' our medic, so nothin' gonna happen ta me." His visor flashed. Prowl simply stared at him a moment, optics flickering. Jazz could practically feel the tension radiating from his mate. "C'mon, Prowler, say somethin'."

"What can I say?" Prowl asked quietly. "Optimus ordered it."

_Ah._ Therein was the problem, and unfortunately Jazz couldn't admit that the idea of going off on a mission – even a vitally important mission that could change the fate of Cybertron and the war itself – without Prowl had slagged him off. He had wanted to rage at Prime, especially when Prime made it clear it was Jazz's job to inform Prowl that he would be going as well. Prime would brief Prowl on his duties in the Autobot leader's absence later.

But it was Jazz's job to tell his mate that he was leaving, maybe to never come home, because Prowl's father had broken his promise once again.

"It seems silly." Prowl murmured, his voice cutting through Jazz's thoughts. "Logically, I know why Optimus is doing it. He has to go. One of us would have to stay. We couldn't go or stay together." He sighed.

Jazz smiled wryly and tilted his helm to the side. "Prowler, ya got a screwed-up sense of logic."

Prowl smirked and tapped his helm. "Glitched battle computer, remember?"

"Ya always had a glitch. But it's okay – I love ya anyway."

"Those words warm my spark." came the expected dry response. Jazz chuckled and leaned against the wall, watching Prowl. Something was bothering his mate, and he didn't know what. So he would stand there until he figured it out. Or until Prowl gave and just spoke. Whichever came first; knowing his mate, he could be here all night.

"I remember my creators."

Jazz blinked. "I know."

"Do you know the only memory I have of them?"

" . . . No."

Prowl smiled, but it didn't seem real. "They patted me on the helm, said they loved me, and walked away. Three days later I was on the street." He snorted and leaned back in his chair. "Why that's the only thing I remember, I don't know. It wasn't too long after that I found you."

It was Jazz's turn to snort. "Ya were crazy then, too." he commented. "What were ya doin' in the middle of an acid storm?"

"Saving your aft." Prowl shot back with a small smirk.

Jazz chuckled. "So why the trip into memory lane?"

"You're walking away." Prowl took a deep breath, steeling himself under Jazz's suddenly intense stare. "I know it's irrational. Every time we've been separated, I keep flashing back to that one memory. And I wonder if this will be the time that you don't come back." He looked away. "You're the only one who matters to me."

He refused to look up, even when he sensed Jazz moving closer. Jazz gently cupped his fingers under Prowl's chin and forced him to look up. Prowl barely had time to register a protest before Jazz's lips descended on his.

It was strong and firm, and Prowl felt everything that was _them_ pass through his core as Jazz gently kissed him. Prowl couldn't help a small sound of protest as Jazz pulled away, but not far. Never far.

"I ain' goin' nowhere, Prowler." Jazz swore. "If'n I gotta haunt yer sorry aft, I ain' goin' nowhere. I'm stayin' here with ya, cuz I love ya too much ta walk away."

Prowl shuttered his optics as Jazz kissed him again, barely able to form a coherent thought under his mate's sudden advances.

_Please, Primus, don't make him a liar._


	27. Threat of Defeat

**Threat of Defeat**

_This song is a poem to myself / It helps me to live  
Taproot_

Earth was an interesting place, Jazz had to admit. He liked the vast array of languages and cultures he could find in a place like this. Cybertron did not have such a diversity, and Jazz would have loved the chance to take a break from the war and just examine everything he could get his hands on.

More than that, though, he wanted Prowl with him.

He could still sense his bondmate, but it faint, so very faint. Most of what he could gather was just a vauge sense that something wasn't right, that there was something missing. He couldn't even put a name to the emotions in Prowl – he just knew that his mate was still alive. For that, he thanked Primus.

Prime worked with him. He gave Jazz updates on Prowl's status as they came in, but that was merely third-hand information. Prowl would make his status reports to Red Alert, who would then send them to Jolt, who was stationed about halfway between Earth and Cybertron, and Jolt would forward them on to Prime. Prime would then inform Jazz.

Prowl was safe. There were no battles in that particular sector of space. The true danger was on Earth, where Megatron was.

Where _Jazz_ was.

What did Prowl think of that?

He sighed and directed his sensors to the sky, waiting semi-patiently for the human _(Sam)_ to return from his house. His thoughts were racing, and he couldn't seem to calm them. Once again, he reached out for Prowl, and once again he found the distance too far to reach without an extended period of peace, which fate did not seem inclined to give him. Sam, Mikaela, Prime, _something_ was always breaking his concentration, and Primus knew Jazz couldn't focus on any one thing longer than two seconds –

Something drifted across the back of his processor. With an inward frown, Jazz concentrated on it, drawing it forward.

It was an old Cybertronian lullaby, the one that Chromia always sang to the sparklings at the youth center where he and Prowl had grown up. The words were unintelligible, but Jazz could still clearly hear the music drifting around in his processor, gently soothing his thoughts like it always had.

Prowl had taken to singing it when he realized it was the only way Jazz would fall asleep after a nightmare. Not even Ultra Magnus, as much as Jazz trusted and loved his adopted father, could match that same soothing quality that Prowl had always managed to create.

He let the music take him away.

::Jazz, are you all right?:: Prime's voice over his private comm. link, concerned. Jazz sent back the impression of a smile.

::'m listenin' ta Prowler.:: he said quietly.

To his credit, Prime didn't even question the odd answer. After all, Prime knew well enough what being separated from a bondmate would do to a mech, especially two like Jazz and Prowl. He smiled to himself.

::We need to move. Human adults have taken the younglings. We must follow them.::

Jazz scowled inwardly, but sent his assent. ::Ah got yer back, Prime.::

The mission was important. The cause was important.

But it was the music, that old, half-forgotten lullaby, that made him get up and follow Prime.


	28. Already Gone

**Already Gone**

_Can you hear me / can you feel me in your arms?_

_Evanescence_

Jazz knew it was a stupid move even as he did it. He was smaller than Megatron, running low on energy, and already slagged up. But the massive 'Con was moving in on Ratchet, who was trying to protect Sam, who had the AllSpark, and more important than anything else was that _Megatron was getting ready to kill Ratchet._ The cranky, ornery medic who was and always had been the closest thing Jazz had ever had to a brother. He was _Prowl's_ brother.

So Jazz acted. There was really nothing to think about. Ironhide was too far away, Prime was hung up with someone else, and Bee had already been slagged up. Jazz was the only one left.

So he charged Megatron, caught in the trap already and already knowing that it was _over _nothing good could come from this Primus what had he been thinking –

"Ya wanna piece of meh? _Ya wanna piece?_"

When all else fails, there's always that last great act of defiance.

Megatron leered at him, knowing his threats were in vain. "No! I want –"

_Oh Primus please it can't end like this – _

"TWO!"

Agony! Fire! Shrieking metal, fluids spilling, his spark stuttering as the sheer _shock_ of the brutality overwhelmed him and his processor began to shut down, blissfully sparing him that last few agonizing moments of life.

_/No! Jazz, please, no!/_

_I didn' even get ta say good-bye . . . _

And everything went dark.

/-/

Prowl screamed.

He was frightening the others. The command deck of the Ark was currently occupied by the only five mechs that were piloting the Ark – the absolute minimum allowed – and they were all watching him. For once, he really didn't care, couldn't bring himself to even pretend to care.

Smokescreen and Blaster stayed back, watching with wide optics as Prowl fell to his knees, grasping at his chassis. What had started out as an odd burning sensation had quickly become a flair of absolute agony, the warmth that was Jazz in his spark flaring and burning hotter than ever before. It was pain in the worst sense.

He could faintly hear Hot Rod talking to him, but he couldn't hear the words. He screamed again, reaching out with his spark in search of his other half.

There was nothing.

Nothing but that fire that wouldn't go out, like acid in his energon lines.

He screamed again.

/No! Jazz, please, no!/

Hands touched his shoulders, and Bluestreak was kneeling beside him, pulling his commanding officer into a tight embrace. He didn't say a word, for once, and for that Prowl was grateful. He couldn't think straight enough to even remotely react to anyone or anything.

Blaster looked at Bluestreak. "What's wrong with him, Blue?" he demanded. "He's never acted like this before!"

Bluestreak's optics were dark with pain as he responded.

"Jazz is gone."

/-/

AN: You guys are going to hate me for that. However, do not despair, there are at least four chapters left, and I promise you – this will have a happy ending. So review, tell me what you think, and for the love of Primus – Keep Reading!


	29. Shattered

AN: One more angst chapter, I think, before the good stuff starts. I hope this doesn't sound too odd – I'm not quite awake as I type this up.

**Shattered**

_Hello, I'm still here, all that's left of yesterday_

_Evanescence_

In all honesty, Sam had to admit that he had no idea why Jazz's death affected the other Autobots the way it did. Sure, he understood what it was like to lose a buddy. If Miles ever died, it would suck, and he had seen what had happened to fellow students who lost friends in car accidents and such. However, the Autobots had been in a war for a very long time. Surely they were prepared for losses.

Which raised the question of what made Jazz special?

He understood Ratchet's guilt. Jazz had been trying to protect him. He even felt a little guilt himself. After all, if Ratchet hadn't been so busy watching Sam's back, he could have watched his own, and the situation never would have risen up. That didn't explain why Ratchet had spent the next six weeks repairing Jazz's corpse, putting everything back together and smoothing out the metal. According to Bumblebee, that wasn't common practice among the Cybertronians. It didn't explain why, as the first batch of new Autobots grew closer to arriving on Earth, the others grew more tense.

Bee hadn't been any help in that. When Sam had asked, something painful flashed in the young Autobot's optics and he looked away. Sam had stopped asking.

Now they stood outside in a desert clearing designed just for this, a perimeter marked out by Lennox, Epps, and their team, and waited. Sam and Mikaela sat on Bumblebee's shoulders, watching the sky like the rest.

Once again, Sam wondered if any of his questions would be answered by the new arrivals. Maybe their arrival would get Bee to open up and tell him what was wrong. Maybe.

It didn't take long. Five asteroids hit the ground, and as all five unfolded into protoform – three with these strange silver panels on their backs that almost looked like wings – the tension in the group started to ease. The sorrow intensified.

Sam didn't get it.

Optimus stepped forward to greet the new arrivals. "Hot Rod, I am sorry for what happened to your team. They were good mechs."

Hot Rod nodded sharply. "Thank you, sir."

"Blaster. Always a pleasure to see you."

The next mech snapped a friendly salute. "Likewise, sir!"

Sam had to grin. He sounded so much like Jazz. Briefly, he wondered if Blaster and Jazz were brothers, but then Optimus was speaking again, and he shook his head to pay attention.

"Smokescreen, Bluestreak – how was the trip? I trust everything went well?" Optimus asked hesitantly.

The first of the winged mechs – Smokescreen – glanced over at the last unnamed mech. Sam suddenly realized that Bluestreak had his arm wrapped protectively around the shoulders of the slightly larger mech. "It could have been better, sir." Smokescreen said finally.

Optimus seemed to wince as he focused on that last mech. "Prowl."

Prowl's wings twitched. In fact, if Sam was reading the signs correctly, Prowl seemed to be on the verge of flying apart at the seams, as his mother liked to put it. He took a hesitant step forward, letting Bluestreak's arm fall away, and quickly scanned the assembled group as if searching for someone. He flinched.

"Jazz?" His voice was soft, hopeful, and filled with pain.

Optimus shook his head. "He's gone, Prowl." he whispered.

A low keening sound escaped the smaller mech before he suddenly collapsed to his knees, wrapping his arms around himself. Optimus stepped forward and knelt down in front of him, placing a hand on his shoulder for comfort. Ratchet did the same, reaching out to the hurting mech.

Mikaela choked, her hands pressed over her mouth even as tears streamed freely down her cheeks.

Suddenly, Sam understood.

He couldn't say with accuracy what Jazz was to Prowl – after all, he knew nothing about Cybertronian relationships. However, he suddenly understood the important part.

Jazz had been special to Prowl. As Sam watched Prowl shake and tremble under Optimus and Ratchet's comforting touches, he wondered if the shattered mech would ever heal, or if he would simply be a shadow of what he used to be with Jazz by his side.

/-/

AN: Yep, last angsty chapter. It gets better from here on out. I just thought this turned out rather nicely, for something done from Sam's point of view. I have nothing against Sam or Mikaela, I just haven't tried writing things from their perspective yet. Review, and let me know what you think!


	30. To Live Again

**To Live Again**

_Forget this life / come with me / don't look back / you're safe now_

_Evanescence_

Prowl looked down at the shard in his hand.

Three weeks. Three weeks he had struggled, smiled for everyone else, played nice with the humans, and still Optimus had seen through him. Optimus and Ratchet both. That's what he got for being raised by the slaggers. The human male, Sam, seemed to be a bit oblivious to the whole deal. Lennox and Epps, the two soldiers, were a bit more wise. He had seen the sympathy in their eyes whenever they looked at him. They were fellow soldiers, after all. However, Prowl doubted they fully understood what a mech went through when his bondmate died.

Jazz was far more than his comrade.

Out of all of the humans, Mikaela seemed to understand the most. Prowl still remembered her tears when he landed, and she had sought him out afterwards. He still remembered her question then.

_He was your lover, wasn't he?_

_He was more than that._

_Will you heal?_

_. . . . No._

_I'm sorry. I wish I could bring him back for you._

Inadvertently, little Mikaela had given him the idea. He had pleaded with Optimus to let him try, and finally the Autobot leader allowed it. In all honesty, Prowl figured that Optimus knew that his son would simply just steal the shard and try anyway. He wasn't far from the mark.

Now Prowl stood in front of Jazz's corpse, Ratchet, Prime, and little Mikaela – easily his favorite human – watching him as he struggled to find peace. To accept that this may not work.

And if it didn't, Prowl would willingly join Jazz in the Matrix. Even Prime accepted that inevitable outcome, even if Ratchet didn't seem too sure about it.

Wheeljack, Sunstreaker, and Sideswipe were due in the next few weeks. Prowl prayed that both he and Jazz would be there to greet their lifelong friends.

Prowl clenched his fist around the AllSpark shard. "I'm ready to try, Ratchet." he said, his voice remarkably steady. Ratchet nodded.

"His chest plates should open easily enough, but you'll have to force his spark chamber open." Ratchet reminded him. Prowl flinched at that, but nodded. He reached out and touched a well-known switch, watching with some trepidation as Jazz's chest plates slid open with ease.

Now for the hard part. Prowl reached inside Jazz's chassis, his fingers lightly brushing against the spark chamber. To his shock, the chamber opened readily beneath his touch. Prowl decided not to mention that. Ratchet didn't like anomalies, and this would only slow things down.

Either it worked or it didn't.

Prowl slid the shard into Jazz's spark chamber, listening for the solid click as it locked into place. He leaned over his mate's body, his own chest plates opening as he pressed against Jazz.

The AllSpark shard could facilitate the resurrection, but it needed some of Jazz's spark energy to do it, and Prowl still carried a faint echo of his mate inside his own spark. It was all that had kept him sane, and now he was going to give it away on the slim, one in a million chance that it might bring _Jazz_ back to him. He felt his spark reach out for something that wasn't there, touch the AllSpark –

_then _

Light flashed behind his optics. Ratchet had mentioned pain, but there was no pain – just a sense of something _blooming_ inside of him, taking root and unfolding into something precious, something he thought he had lost forever. _Primus, please, this is all I ask – _

"Optimus, look!" Mikaela breathed.

"I see it." Prime whispered.

_- that you would bring him back to me._

Warm arms wrapped around him, reaching up to touch his doorwings. Prowl felt his spark retreat, chest plates slide shut, and for a moment he was afraid to online his optics to see what had become of his attempt. A gentle hand touched his cheek.

"Prowler."

His optics onlined with a start, coolant leaking down his face as his emotions threatened to overwhelm him. "Jazz." he breathed, reaching up to touch his face.

Jazz grinned and pulled Prowl into a sound kiss before responding. "In the flesh. Told ya I would haunt yer aft if I hadta."

Then Prowl was choking on laughter, hugging Jazz as tight as he could. Prime turned to Ratchet and Mikaela. "I think a health scan can wait until the morning." he said quietly, a small smile on his face. "Let's leave them be."

"Agreed." Ratchet said, watching Prowl and Jazz as they clung to each other. "Primus, Optimus, I was afraid – "

"I know."

Neither Jazz nor Prowl were aware of their audience leaving.

/-/

AN: Ta-da! Now, was that a reasonable way of going about it? I hope so. Drop me a line and tell me what you think. Just remember – the ride isn't over yet!


	31. No Regrets

**No Regrets**

_For you I'm alive! Because of you, I'm awake!_

_Godsmack_

Jazz smiled to himself as he watched Prowl talk with Prime. It had taken time for him to get to this point, where Ratchet would allow him out of the med bay and back into his quarters. Ratchet had been furiously working out the glitches that came from being killed and then brought back to life. He didn't remember much from the previous mission – what had occurred before he woke to find Prowl leaning over him was pretty much a blur except for those last horrifying moments – but he remembered everything else. Ratchet had deemed it a medical miracle.

Jazz knew better.

So he watched Prowl as he interacted with the others. Oddly enough, Mikaela had taken to sitting on Prowl's shoulder while he gave reports and talked with the other mechs. It hadn't taken Jazz long to realize that Prowl had unofficially adopted the little human femme. A few questions into the past few days – and Mikaela's home life, or lack thereof – was all Jazz needed to understand why. Another few days spent in Mikaela's company, and Jazz was willing to discuss making it official with Prowl. Mikaela had kept a broken Prowl sane, and for that Jazz owed her.

If it wasn't for her, Jazz may not have had a Prowl to come back to.

There were still problems. Jazz still had nightmares. It had come as a shock to realize that Prowl was sharing quarters with Bluestreak instead of staying on his own. Admittedly, Bluestreak was like family (and bonded to Sunstreaker to boot), but the idea was odd. Prowl had taken to staying in the med bay at night with him.

Primus, Jazz had missed this.

That was the one thing he still remembered clearly from his time on Earth before Prowl showed up – that he could barely feel Prowl through the bond. Now Prowl was _there_, bright and warm inside his spark, and Jazz couldn't have been happier.

Prowl glanced over and smiled at him. Jazz grinned. He gave it another three minutes before Prowl found some reason to excuse himself and join his mate. Since Sam was on base with Bumblebee, Mikaela would go and stay with him.

Sure enough – there he was, making a bee line for Jazz, sans Mikaela. Jazz's grin grew wider as Prowl sat down next to him. "Miss me that much, eh?" he teased, leaning against Prowl's shoulder. Prowl slid his arm around Jazz and pulled him close. "Can't stay 'way from meh longer than two minutes."

"I made it ten this time." Prowl teased back. "You should probably be resting right now."

Jazz made a show of waving his hand. "Nah. Ratchet's cut me loose. Says I c'n go back to our quarters if'n Blue don' mind sharin'."

Prowl chuckled. "I doubt that. We just got word the Twins are coming, along with Red Alert and Inferno."

Jazz laughed. "Seriously? That's epic!"

"Yes, epic." Prowl said with faint amusement. "They'll be here within a few weeks."

"Are we sure Earth is ready for the Twins?"

"No planet is ready for the Twins." Prowl said dryly. Jazz laughed outright at that. Prowl's responding smile could have lit Iacon.

Suddenly, Prowl grew serious. "I want you to tell me something, Jazz." he said. "And I want you to be honest."

Jazz froze. That was never a good sign. "Okay, shoot."

"Are – " Prowl hesitated, then looked away. Jazz flinched. _Definitely_ not a good sign. "Are you happy being back?"

Jazz blinked. "What?"

"I see you hurting." Prowl continued. "I was just wondering – with all the problems that came with it, was it worth coming back?"

Jazz did the only thing he could do in the face of a ridiculous question like that. He smacked Prowl in the back of the helm.

"Ya listen ta me good, ya hear?" he snapped. "I don' regret nothin'. If'n ya hadn't brought me back, I woulda found a way. Yer mah mate, Prowler. I would do anythin' fer ya, ya know that. This here, these aches? They'll go away in time. Even if'n I don' remember jack about that last mission, I don' care. I told ya I'd be here fer ya. I am, right?"

Prowl smiled again, rubbing the back of his helm. "All right – I'm sorry I asked!" he chuckled.

Jazz scowled, but he could feel the smile threatening to break loose. Primus, Prowl could be insecure at times. Then again, so could he. "Yer forgiven." he said grandly. "But who brought that up? Ya never woulda started thinkin' that way on yer own."

Prowl hesitated. "I'll tell you later."

"Nope. Ya tell me now."

Prowl laughed and kissed Jazz soundly before pulling back. "Later, Jazzy. When you're well enough to kick his aft if you want."

Jazz grinned. "I'll hold ya to that, Prowler." he teased. "Now, git back over here. I ain't done tastin' ya."

/-/

AN: Wow. One more chapter to go, and it'll probably be the happiest one out of them all. Review, please!


	32. Moving Forward

AN: Here's the last official chapter – but since I love you guys so much, I'm going to give you two bonus chapters that don't actually come after this one. Probably. Be on the lookout for those!

**Moving Forward**

_I just heard the news today / it seems my life is gonna change_

_Creed_

Mikaela sat on Jazz's shoulder, watching as Prowl underwent a check-up. Hot Rod was the only other mech in the med bay besides Ratchet himself, glaring at his currently incapacitated arm. No matter how many times Ratchet asked Jazz just what had started that fight, the silver mech just crossed his arms and looked rather smug. Prowl would also chuckle every time it was brought up, so Mikaela could easily put two and two together.

After all, she hadn't been oblivious to Jazz's loving Gibb's-slap, even if everyone else pretended to be.

Ratchet frowned. "Prowl?"

Prowl blinked up at Ratchet, drawn from a private conversation with Jazz. "Yes, Ratchet?"

"Do me a favor and open your chest plates." Ratchet ordered. "I need a better scan of your spark."

Now he had Jazz's attention. "Why? Prowler ain't hurt, is he?" he demanded.

Ratchet was quick to shake his head. "No – no, he's not hurt. Not if I'm right, at any rate." He continued to mutter to himself even as Prowl obligingly slid his chest plates open. Ratchet ran an extensive scan sequence on his spark chamber. Jazz glanced at Prowl.

/Why is Ratch so bent outta shape?/ Jazz wondered.

Prowl shrugged minutely. /No idea. Maybe it has something to do with why I've been so tired recently./ he suggested.

Jazz nodded. /Maybe./

Ratchet's optics widened. "Primus, Prowl." he murmured.

Prowl stared at him. "What?" he demanded. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing is wrong." Ratchet leaned back, allowing Prowl to close his chest plates. "In fact, everything is absolutely perfect."

Jazz gave Ratchet an odd look. "Yer worryin' me, Ratch." he said. "Ya never say things are perfect. There's always somethin'."

"Not this time. Not if I have any say in it." Ratchet crossed his arms over his chassis and smiled at Prowl. "You're carrying."

Prowl's optics paled. "Say what?"

"You're carrying. Congratulations – yours will be the first sparkling since the youth centers were destroyed." Ratchet leaned against the wall, waiting for the delayed reaction.

Jazz suddenly cheered, startling Mikaela. "We're gonna have a sparklin', Prowler!" He was practically bouncing on his feet as he hugged Prowl. Prowl smiled at him, still looking a bit shell-shocked.

Mikaela gave them both odd looks. "Okay – what's 'carrying' and a 'sparkling'?" she asked, raising her hand. "Once more for the uncultured human, please."

Ratchet chuckled. "I think the closest thing a human would think of is 'pregnancy' and 'infant'." he translated. "Prowl and Jazz's spark energies combined to form a new spark signature that's currently using Prowl's spark chamber to grow and develop. When it's ready, it'll separate from Prowl's spark and I'll place it in its own protoform."

Mikaela's eyes widened. "You're going to have a baby? That's awesome!" Now she was trying to hug Prowl and Jazz at the same time. Prowl laughed, raising a hand to press a finger against her back so she didn't fall from Jazz's shoulder. "What are you gonna name it?"

"We don't even know what we'll have." Prowl said with a smile. "One step at a time."

"We so totally have to tell Optimus!" Mikaela said happily. "Ratchet, can I come with you when you do?"

"Sure." Ratchet reached out and plucked Mikaela from her precarious perch on Jazz's shoulder and set her on his. "At least now Wheeljack is here to help me build the protoform and refine our energon supply for a sparkling. They don't drink the same stuff we do." They exited the med bay, still talking about sparklings and preperations.

Jazz rested his helm on Prowl's shoulder, one hand coming up to touch Prowl's chassis. "A sparklin', Prowler." he murmured. "Who'da thought?"

"I didn't." Prowl chuckled, reaching up to take Jazz's hand in his. He raised Jazz's hand to his mouth and kissed it. "Looks like we're going to be a family now."

Jazz laughed. "We always were a family, Prowler." he said quietly. "Now we're just a bigger one."

Prowl rested his helm against Jazz's, keeping his mate's hand in his. Jazz began to hum quietly, that same lullaby they learned in the Iacon youth center, and Prowl couldn't help but smile.

A sparkling. He was going to be a creator. With the war over, there would be nothing preventing them from raising a healthy sparkling in a safe environment.

He just prayed that he and Jazz would one day be able to show their child their true home – Cybertron.

**The End**

Ta-da! It's done! Like I said, two bonus chapters coming, but don't expect those for another few weeks – I have to study for the ASTB, and it's coming up quick. But once I've taken it, those two chapters will pop right up.

Hope you've enjoyed the ride, and until next time I remain yours truly,

Shadowblade-tara


	33. Bonus: Tears of Blood

AN: Remember how I said this chapter would pop right up after I took my ASTB? I lied. Fallen Angels grabbed me instead.

Dedicated to Gatekat for the song idea.

**Tears of Blood**

_If you were given back a lifetime, would you find some room for me?_

_Night Ranger_

There was nothing.

For once, Ratchet was not hovering over his shoulder as he stood by Jazz's still form. He wanted to touch Jazz, _needed_ to touch him, but the frame would be cold, and he couldn't handle that. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

He was finding it harder and harder to hold on. His processor was steadily _(too quickly for something like this he hasn't been gone that long Primus it feels like forever)_ losing contact with the rest of the world. He had spaced out in the middle of being briefed by Ironhide on current Decepticon activity – what little there was of it. With Megatron gone, it looked like the fight had gone out of the remaining Decepticons.

Optimus had told him to take his time. He couldn't even think of time right now. It all blurred together, a smear of grey in his processor. He couldn't quite focus, couldn't see the importance of it anymore.

Jazz had been the only casualty. He supposed he ought to be thankful he wasn't mourning more of his comrades.

The thought was a bitter one.

Primus had wanted Jazz to live. Jazz had lived by that creed, and Prowl had never combated his faulty logic. He knew how badly Jazz needed some sort of comfort in the insanity of the war. He would not be the one to take that from him. After a while, Prowl had come to believe it, too.

Prowl often wondered what was supposed to become of them after the war. He had never imagined this, though. Had never wanted to outlive Jazz.

"Prowl?"

He glanced behind him at Mikaela. "You should be recharging." he said softly.

"So should you." Mikaela shot back. "Staring at him isn't going to help."

"No." Prowl admitted. "Not in the least."

Mikaela flinched. "You aren't going to kill yourself, are you?" she asked hesitantly. "You're acting like you're suicidal."

Prowl chuckled darkly. "I don't have to be. No Cybertronian has ever survived the death of a bondmate. That is the nature of spark bonds. I am merely . . . prolonging the inevitable."

Mikaela walked up to him and wrapped her arms around his leg. "I don't want you to go, though." she murmured against the metal plating. "I want you to stay here."

Prowl lowered his helm, coolant tears streaking down his face. "I don't think I have a choice, little Mikaela."

Mikaela merely nodded, tears cutting tracks down her own cheeks. Prowl wanted to encourage her, somehow, but he couldn't find the words. Tonight, the blackness was too great.

"Would you change it?"

Prowl blinked at the sudden question. "Pardon?"

"Would you change it? You know – if you could do it all over again, would you even bother, knowing that this is coming?"

Anyone else might have gotten smacked for that question, but Prowl knew Mikaela was only asking from a limited, genuinely concerned perspective. So instead of exploding, Prowl merely reached down and picked up the small human, setting her gently on his shoulder.

"Maybe one day you'll fully understand." he said softly. "Perhaps I'll have enough time to tell you all the stories. My life could never have played out any other way."

No, there was no other option. Primus wanted Jazz to live, so he gave the saboteur Prowl. But Prowl needed to live as well.

So Primus gave him Jazz.

And now that was gone.

He gently touched Jazz's face one last time before turning and walking away. Tomorrow he would try. If he had to steal the shard, he would do it, but he would _try._ If he failed –

Well, either way – he would be seeing Jazz again very soon.

/-/

An: Eh, a bit bitter, but I thought I kinda neglected this part of the story. So here's another addition, made a bit less bitter since you know what happens next. (smiles) Enjoy! Last bonus chap coming up!


	34. Bonus: Snippets

AN: And here's the last bonus chapter of Night to Day - sentence prompts! Hopefully this isn't too disappointing. If there are any sentences you'd like to see expanded into drabbles or one-shots, just let me know in the reviews. (waves) Bye guys! Go check out my new Jazz/Prowl story after you read this!

**Snippets**

**Ring** – His son's laugher was like a bell's ring – brief, vibrant, and never heard outside of Jazz's company.

**Hero** – For all that he had sacrificed, Jazz would forever hold Prowl as his hero.

**Memory** – Sometimes the searing agony of Jazz's death haunted Prowl's dreams; it was on such nights that Jazz held Prowl close, reassuring his mate the only way he knew how.

**Box** – "Jazz, I really don't think Sentinel would appreciate a new personality chip as a creation day present, no matter how funny you think it would be."

**Run** – When the call came for them to retreat, they found they had nowhere to run; trapped back to back, there was nothing for them to do but keep fighting until Shockwave's forces overwhelmed them.

**Hurricane** – The massive storm that hit the Autobot base had human and mechs alike running for cover; Prowl just stood there, letting the rain pelt his doorwings and imagining it was Jazz's touch.

**Wings** – Jazz knew how sensitive Prowl's doorwings were, so when he saw Gears attempting to seduce Prowl in the Academy rec room, it took everything he had not to tear the mech off of him and spare Prowl the discomfort.

**Cold** – He felt the cold consume his spark as his body was ripped in half; Prowl's responding scream was just an extra layer of pain before the world went completely dark.

**Red – **"Ya know, Prowler – the 'Con's don't actually see red" – "Jazz, why are you wearing a 'Con visor?"

**Drink** – "Of course I'm gonna keep bringing ya energon; ya don't take care of yerself and it's a good excuse ta visit."

**Midnight** – Prowl's first midnight on Earth was spent standing guard over Jazz's lifeless body; what felt like an eternity later, he spent his first Earth midnight worshipping his living mate under the full moon.

**Temptation** – There was something about Jazz's sleek new alt form with his distinctive visor, and for the first few weeks Prowl could not keep his hands to himself.

**View** – As Prowl glared at him from his undignified heap on the floor, Jazz merely grinned and said, "Gotta love the view."

**Music** – Prowl never cared for music until he found himself attempting to comfort a distraught Jazz late one night and the only words that would come were the lines of Jazz's favorite song – _If you need to crash then crash and burn you're not alone._

**Silk – **Sam noticed the strange way Prowl's fingers traced across Jazz's face plates, not like he was fine china ready to break, but rather like the smooth metal was the finest silk he had ever had the pleasure of touching.

**Cover** – At first Lennox wondered how they were going to bury Jazz's body (after all, it wasn't right to just sink him like they did Megatron and the others), so it came as a surprise to him when Ratchet simply covered the corpse with a tarp and began gathering materials for repairs.

**Promise** – A sparkling doorwinger held tightly to his smaller, blind companion, and if any of the adults got too close, his little wings would flare and his grip would tighten, a wordless oath that he would protect what was his.

**Dream** – Prowl screamed as he fell to his knees, spark shattering as he realized his worst nightmare had become his reality.

**Candle** – "Light a candle and pray over the flame, and the smoke will carry your prayer to God," Mikaela explained; Prowl studied the tiny flame a moment before whispering "Dear Primus, I want him back."

**Talent** – "Jazz, you have a singular talent for pissing our superiors off."

**Silence** – Jazz caught Prowl's optic across the meeting room and tilted his head to the side in a silent question; Prowl merely smiled at him and Jazz turned his attention back to the meeting, curiosity satisfied.

**Journey** – "This is one trip I don't want to take without you."

**Fire** – Prowl watched Sam and Mikaela cuddle beside their bonfire, Bee stretched out behind them, until Jazz's fingers brushed gently across his doorwings as he whispered in his audios, and a whole new fire erupted inside him.

**Strength** – Optimus wasn't sure what surprised him more: the power of Ratchet's fury or his shouted proclamation of "Prowl _is_ Jazz's strength, you blind slagger – how long will it take for you to get that?"

**Mask** – During the day he hid behind strictness and rules; only at night did he feel comfortable enough to shed his mask and let Jazz take care of him.

**Ice** – "Water is slippery when frozen, Jazz" – "Mute it, slagger."

**Fall** – "Ya don't worry 'bout a thing, Prowler – I got yer back."

**Forgotten** – As Sam watched Prowl grieve, he wondered what it must be like to recover from a loss when time could never dull the memories.

**Dance** – Sometimes Optimus wondered how long Prowl and Jazz could hide the truth that he himself had known for some time: they had never danced this war for anything but each other.

**Body** – Jazz had never considered himself jealous, but he had to revise that opinion when he bodily drug Smokescreen from the meeting room for touching Prowl's doorwings.

**Sacred** – "All life is important; I just happen ta believe yers is more important than mine."

**Farewell** – "I never had the chance to say good-bye."

**World** – Prowl had to admit – Cybertron was almost boring compared to Earth.

**Formal** – "Wow, Prowler, ya make even stiff 'n formal look good."

**Fever** – "Optimus, Prowl's systems are overheating; at the rate he's going, it won't be long until he joins Jazz with Primus."

**Laugh** – It was so rare that Optimus had heard Prowl laugh, much less seen him doubled over laughing so hard he couldn't breathe, Jazz grinning like a fool while he stood in front of Prowl wearing a pink tutu and flanked by the Twins; the sight was so ludicrous that Prime experienced his first ever lock up.

**Lies** – For a long time after the move to Tyger Pax, Prime couldn't look Prowl in the optic without hearing the youngling's accusing voice, especially in the conspicuous absence of Jazz.

**Forever** – "I promised ya forever, Prowler, when I bonded ya – ya think somethin' like this would change that?"

**Overwhelmed** – Jazz glanced sideways at Ratchet before speaking softly, "Don' look so shocked, Ratch – ya shoulda known I would do anythin' fer him."

**Whisper** – Prowl leaned against Jazz, chassis pressing against his mate as his fingers danced across Jazz's armor, whispering in his audios of days before and days to come.

**Wait** – "Would it kill you just this once to take time out and heal – Prowl, Jazz has been worried sick about you; at least consider him!"

**Talk** – Prowl didn't want to acknowledge the depression that grew every day Jazz was unreachable on his mission; once Bluestreak pinned him down and forced out a confession, however, he realized he felt much better.

**Search** – Jazz knew the AllSpark had to be found, he just wished Prowl was looking for it with him rather than guarding a dying Cybertron.

**Hope** – As Ratchet watched Prowl and Jazz recover from their almost-fatal session with Shockwave, he could do nothing more than hope and pray they would someday have a better life than this.

**Eclipse** – It was at that moment when Jazz fled an important mission briefing in response to Prowl's desperate SOS that Prime finally realized – Prowl eclipsed anything that Jazz might feel for the Autobot cause.

**Gravity** – Jazz grinned at Prowl from the floor and quipped, "Gravity works!"

**Highway** – "But I _like_ watchin' yer sexy aft drive off inta the sunset!"

**Unknown **– No one knew when it started, but everyone knew it was right.

**Lock** – Prowl glared at the door from their berth and grumbled, "The Twins need to learn what a locked door means."

**Breathe** – They were everything to each other, the very air they breathed, and Optimus could only wish them and their new sparkling a blessed life.


End file.
